When the Riders Depart
by Jayden Scott
Summary: No matter how they felt, Alice and Claire could never be any more than two women trying to survive in a dying world. For a single moment, Claire forgets that the T-virus has already robbed the world of any goodness. Alice/Claire
1. Chapter First

**Took a little liberty with the Resident Evil: Extinction timeline. Otherwise... that is all.**

**This is VERY loosely based on a dream I had. While what happens, the actions the characters take are the same as the ones in my dream, the emotions are not. I got this idea from my dream, but the emotions aren't mine; they belong to Claire. Further explanation at the end of the story.**

**Please review. It makes me happy. And I work for the federal government, so I need as much happiness as I can get. ;-P**

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><p>A smile.<p>

Such a simple expression. Not a smirk. Not feigned emotion. Not forced or faked. But a genuine smile that touched not only the lips, but the eyes as well. A smile that would wash all facial features in an honest, unrestrained light. A smile that would be a window past the barriers and walls she had erected around herself, allowing Claire to see into her, if only for a moment, into the real Alice that lay underneath the layers of grief and pain and guilt and fear.

It was the only thing that Claire wanted from Alice since the moment she stumbled into their camp and saved them all in an eruption of flames and a rush of sheer physical power that left the desert crackling with an unnatural energy even after the fire had dissipated.

There had been suspicion initially, of course. Claire had only survived as long as she had, her convoy had only lasted so long, because of her wariness. A momentary lapse in vigilance was an unguarded opening for the Undead hordes that dogged their every step. So she could not afford to be instantly trusting.

But as time progressed, as Alice proved herself not only trustworthy but a good person, Claire felt herself struggling to maintain her distance.

Alice was broken. Everyone was broken now. In a world where death came so easily, where once dead, people still rose and walked, friends becoming the agents of the same terror and Infection that they had succumbed to. No one still clawing at survival for the past six years had not lost someone, had not watched the death of a loved one and subsequently borne witness to their Undeath. How could anyone bear all the ravages of the apocalypse and not be wounded?

But Alice was broken in a different way. The guilt was easy to recognize for Claire. The woman suffered the same weighted grief that lurked just beneath the surface, always present and palpable. It was the same burden that plagued Claire. But there was something else, something indiscernible that Claire could not identify or understand.

Claire held herself aloof from her convoy, the others whose lives she was charged with protecting, because she had to be strong for them. Alice held herself at arms' length for another reason. It was fear, Claire finally decided. Not of death or Infection or loss or danger, but of herself.

Despite the obvious toll of Alice's mysterious past, Claire liked Alice. She was intelligent; moreover, she was compassionate, caring for the strangers of a convoy to the point she was willing to risk her own life to protect them. She stayed with them, even though it would have been easy for her to leave. Her cleverness, her sarcastic near-flirty comments, her maddeningly smug smirk, demonstrated she had not completely succumbed to her wounds, that her humanity remained intact.

As the days and weeks passed, as they headed towards Las Vegas for fuel that would carry them to a land untouched by the corruption of the T-virus, Claire tried to maintain the careful distance established between herself and Alice.

It was not easy, but still she tried. Attraction was not a luxury she could afford, no matter how her heart fluttered or how it ached at the sight of the other woman. Sometimes it seemed as if it could be so easy to submit, to surrender herself to those pale, glacier blue eyes. She constantly reminded herself that standing in between them was a yawning gulf, a chasm of raw emotion and painful pasts that could never be traversed.

Inevitably though, she would falter. Alice would speak to her, and Claire would be instantly drawn in. Her eyes would linger too long with every glimpse. Even a careful touch, Alice's hand grazing her shoulder or their fingers brushing as they simultaneously reached for the radio mounted to the dash in the Hummer, sent Claire's nerves reeling, her chest tight with something akin to fear.

But what she really wanted from Alice, what she craved despite all her efforts to the contrary, was for Alice to smile. Not something fake, but a true smile. A crack in the otherwise impenetrable façade.

Little did she know that smile would be her undoing.

They had been loading the last of supplies into the back of the Hummer as they prepared to break camp and continue their journey. Alice hefted the last box into the Hummer easily, closing the door and turning to face the younger woman.

Claire had laughed, an unusual sound even to her own ears. There was so little to laugh about the past six years. But as Alice faced her, the collar of her long duster jacket was standing up. Claire was reminded of the idiot frat boys she had seen in college, the ones who intentionally wore the collars of their polo shirts popped up.

Without thinking, she closed the distance between them and adjusted Alice's collar, smoothing it down flat. It was innocent. She was about to withdraw her hands when her eyes met Alice's and first saw the smile there. She was frozen, trapped by that smile, her hands still resting on the lapels of the jacket, against Alice's chest.

Alice's smile was colored with amusement, partly with mischief. She did not just smile with her lips, but her whole mouth, revealing dazzling white teeth. She dropped her eyes, as if somewhat abashed, before raising them again.

It was beauty. It felt as if Alice's smile was the only purity left in the world, the only thing left untainted by the corruption of the T-virus. It was the single instance of respite that Claire could recall in the past six years of death and fleeing and violence. Tears welled in her eyes until Alice's face, her smile blurred.

"I…" Claire opened her mouth to speak, but found she could not. Their bodies were so close; she was able to feel Alice's chest rise and fall with each breath under her hands. In that moment, as Alice smiled at her, she knew that her feelings for the other woman were not only known, but reciprocated. Reality slammed into her gut, as hard as a mallet. With the simple gesture of adjusting a collar, she had betrayed herself. She shook her head, horrified by her behavior. "I… I can't let this happen." She whispered, more to herself than Alice.

She felt the emptiness at the lack of contact even as she pulled away, even as she fled.

There was still supplies that needed to be loaded, vehicles that needed to be checked, duties that needed to be attended to before they set off. It would be easy to lose herself in routine and duty again, to bury the anguish that seemed to squeeze the breath out of her lungs.

When Alice found her again, she was hunched over the engine of another truck, studiously checking the oil, the fluid levels. She ignored Alice, pretended to be immersed in work. But she could not ignore the hand on the back of her neck.

Alice's hand was startlingly cool against her bare skin, and inwardly, Claire flinched.

"I… want you to know…" Alice's voice hitched with uncertainty, as if she was experiencing the same fear that petrified Claire. "…how much I value you. How important you are. To me."

Inhaling as if it might solidify her resolve, she turned to face Alice and repeat that she couldn't, that they shouldn't…

But the moment she faced her, she saw Alice's face and lost all words. Alice. The small, courageous woman who had saved them all. Alice, so strong yet so damaged that the only thing she seemed to fear was herself. Alice, who coaxed feelings Claire long thought impossible to the surface. Alice, who crossed the chasm between them and reached for the front of Claire's shirt to pull her closer.

Their lips met. Claire squeezed her eyes shut but still felt those lips on hers, torturing her with the slowest kiss. She felt gentle fingertips rest lightly on her cheekbones. Her own hands reached for Alice of their own volition, once again resting on her collarbones. It was as if the moment, the kiss would last forever, the two of them frozen in time, locked in a kiss that would never end, safe and protected from the rest of the world.

But the kiss did end. Claire's cheeks were wet when she pulled away. The illusion, the moment of serenity was shattered.

"I can't." Claire wrenched herself away from Alice, turning her back on the one thing she wanted.

The smile she had so desperately hungered for had not been the crack in Alice's façade, but the crack in her own. Instead of gazing into Alice and seeing past the careful countenance she presented, she had seen through a window into her own vulnerability.

She couldn't.

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><p><strong>If this ended like my dream did, Claire would run off and jump into a swimming pool with her iPhone in her pocket, then have a fight with her father about her car being in the shop, and her lazy ass brothers would refuse to take her to aforementioned shop to pick up the car. And then participate in a swim competition.<strong>

**Even though this is based on my dream, I want to make it clear that these are not my feelings. In my dream, I don't want to kiss the woman because she's a crazy bitch and I try to get away from her. But the dream-situation gave me the idea for this story, and a good way for Claire to angst. Don't know why I feel compelled to explain all this, but I do.**

**May the Force be with you. Leave me some feedback, please. :-)**


	2. Chapter Second

**Firstly, this is dedicated to Luxor Nautalis who convinced me to make this into a series. And thank you to all who have reviewed so far. I greatly appreciate your kind words and encouragement.**

**I have gone a little AU with this because I want to play God and make Alice and Claire roam the desert for forty years before they reach the promised land. Lesbians, Israelites. Same thing, right? That and I'm not a big fan of how the fourth movie went story-wise. Soooo... in my world Las Vegas was relatively uneventful. **

**Please review. I'm a Soldier and if you do not review I will be sad. You don't want a sad Soldier weighing on your conscience do you?**

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><p>Tangled.<p>

It was all jumbled now. Nothing was ever certain anymore. The lines which had been so clear, so defined were now blurred and indistinct.

Neither Claire nor Alice had spoken of their kiss, mentioned what had transpired between them that morning. But it was not as simple as resuming their previous routine of casual friendship; no, it could never be that easy. While it was never discussed, neither woman seemed capable of pretending nothing had happened, nor could they feign ignorance of one another's feelings.

The kiss had irrevocably changed the dynamic of their relationship.

Alice knew that Claire was in love with her, no matter how much she resisted the feeling or denied herself, but she seemed to accept Claire's decision. She never pushed, never said anything, but nor did she pretend not to be aware of Claire's feelings. It was almost as if she was waiting, patiently biding her time.

Claire knew that Alice shared her feelings of affection, what was more she had openly offered Claire the very thing she yearned for. But it was not possible for her to accept. To accept would open herself to grief, to injury. The only constant in the world was death; Claire refused to open herself to that vulnerability, to expose Alice to the same risk. Claire could not let herself love Alice; it meant she would risk losing her, and Claire knew she could not survive that loss. More importantly, Alice would be faced with the same somber truth that she was. She was protecting Alice. It was better this way, for both of them.

The kiss had fostered an intensity that blossomed and paralyzed the two women. It was always present at the surface of their every interaction, every word. It was intensity so fierce that it was nearly tangible. Every word exchanged, every action was deliberate, meticulous, careful. The two women were constantly on edge in one another's presence. It hung in the air like an oppressive cloud over them whenever they were within arm's length of one another.

It was the way Alice gazed at her unabashedly, unbound affection clearly written on her face, spoken in her eyes, as if wordlessly promising Claire her loyalty, protection, and love.

She always looked that way at Claire now, even when they fought and argued which was more often. Clipped words bled into disagreements which led to cruel silences. And still, Alice endured, never wavering, her expression always seeming to whisper, _"I'm here. I'll always be here."_

It threw Claire off balance: the constant shift between fire and ice, between desire and anger. The ground kept shifting beneath her feet, one minute torn by an immense longing to be held by the older woman, the next wanting to shove her away, scream at her that no matter how much they both wanted it, the T-virus had already destroyed everything that was good in the world. Love was a weakness no one could afford if they hoped to survive.

When they finally reached it, Las Vegas had not yielded enough food or supplies for the arduous journey to Alaska. Luckily, no one had been hurt fighting through the hordes to find that out.

That was not to say there was not violence. The Infected had finally found them after they had gathered what food they could while they were trying to fuel the vehicles. Just a few at first, but the trickle gradually became a surge.

Claire and Alice helped fight off the waves of Infected, providing cover so Joel and K-mart could fuel the vehicles without interruption. At one point, two Infected grabbed Claire as she ran to aid Carlos; she attempted to shrug them off, to rip herself out of their grasp, but they had their hands clenched around the button-down shirt she wore over her tank top.

She was on the ground, the sand searing hot underneath her, the zombie frenzy of feeding descending on top of her. Kicking, flailing, she fought to keep moving, keep her hands and arms and legs out of their mouths. It was all a blur of sand and decomposed flesh as the primal need to survive took over. She had dropped her pistol when she was knocked down. She could not search for it without slowing down enough to risk being bitten. All she could do was thrash like a mouse caught in a trap.

One of the Infected disappeared, his rotting head snapped back as if kicked in the face, falling motionless to the desert floor. Then the other as his head exploded, the momentum carrying his body to slump across Claire's midsection as it died a second time. Alice appeared and yanked the corpse off of Claire by the scraps of its filthy shirt without even glancing down, her eyes and revolver still trained on the approaching zombies.

Shrugging off the shock of the abrupt rescue, Claire snatched up her gun and fired a series of shots into the zombie running at Alice from behind, and then climbed to her feet.

Alice stayed at Claire's side the rest of the fight, never straying too far away, as if she were protecting Claire and not the convoy. They fought side by side, nearly in tandem, playing off of one another's movements, always covering the other's back. It was a dance, choreographed but effortless. Alice moved, Claire responded.

At the call signaling that the vehicles were as fueled as they could be, Claire dashed for the Hummer while Alice covered her. Once Claire threw the driver side door open, she turned and fired so Alice could bound back to the vehicle.

As they sped away, the Infected horde fading into specks along with what remained of the Las Vegas skyline, Claire exhaled. She glanced over to Alice, who was emptying her revolver of spent shell casings. The scarf that normally covered her head had been pulled back, revealing her unruly hair that seemed to be every shade and hue of brown: a rich earthy brown, chestnut, dark chocolate all highlighted by strands of honeyed-brown. Her hair was always disheveled, always beautiful, even though Claire was fairly certain Alice cut it herself with one of her kukri blades.

Alice always appeared so strong. Her fingers deftly replaced the spent casings, her expression one of stony contemplation. Fighting the Infected never bothered her; she never shrank from violence. Even the goriest of struggles was regarded with cold, surgical precision. This instance was no different from any other.

"Thank you," Claire remembered the panic, the bubbling terror that had seized her when the Infected had been on top of her, of how the sight of Alice rushing to her defense had immediately quelled that feeling.

Alice looked over at her. The stoicism melted away instantly, her lips pressed together as if she were about to smile. Instead she nodded wordlessly before turning her eyes back to the road in front of them.

Why was everything so much harder now? It was as if the edges of their relationship had frayed and were now tangled. Claire was so confused, her own feelings so puzzling that she could not discern where she stood anymore. She was no longer Claire Redfield, leader of a convoy in the Nevada desert, Alice's friend.

Now she was lost and alone in the desert, with no point of reference with which to obtain her bearings.

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><p><strong>The actual story part where things happen and it isn't just abstract emotion and junk will pick up with the next chapter.<strong>

**And again, please review.**


	3. Chapter Third

**First of all, thank you to everyone who has reviewed and subscribed and favorited. Thank y'all so much!**

**Secondly, I apologize for the delay. I am currently in Puerto Rico for work and the days have been super long and unforgiving. I apologize for the delay in this update, and I also apologize if it sucks. I am quite honestly too tired to think clearly. Lastly, I'd like to apologize to the entire island of Puerto Rico for my appalling handle of the Spanish language.**

**As always, please review. It makes my homo-heart happy. **

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><p>Night in the desert was a contradiction of the daylight hours.<p>

As if a dying planet populated by soulless husks of reanimated flesh driven by an insatiable hunger for flesh was not unpleasant enough, the sun scowled down on the still-living with a merciless ferocity. During the day, everything was hot. The sand, trucks, rocks, buildings, people all baked evenly under the white intensity of the sun. Even the wind was hot, serving only to stir up grit and sand, never providing even a moment's relief. The air was hot, clotting in the lungs, making every exhalation forced and labored. Sweat dried instantly on the skin; even the human body's defense against overheating failed against such uncompromising, furious temperatures.

As soon as the sun began to fade into dusk, the temperature immediately plunged and continued to fall as night settled over the desert. Unlike the unforgiving sun, the brightness of the moon when it was full was comforting. Without the pollution of city lights, of artificial brilliance, the nights were darker and the moon and stars more visible. Though the night supposedly belonged to monsters that could lurk in the darkness, Claire felt more at ease after the sun had set.

Everything… settled at night. The convoy gathered around their respective fires or vehicles, voices softened to murmurs, sleep came to those who were willing.

Night was the soothing balm to the harsh chaos of the day.

The small, crackling fire Claire had built warmed two tin cans of unidentified dinner. Without labels, or Otto to tell their contents, dinners were a constant surprise. Her throat constricted at the thought of Otto, lost when the Infected crows had swarmed the convoy. Another loss, another name that she would forever carry in her heart, another person she had failed.

The sun had begun to set when they finally stopped to make camp. There was no abandoned hotel or building for them tonight, just a cluster of craggy rocks to break the monotony of sand. Claire wanted to sleep under the stars that night, see the open sky over her.

She had made her rounds, going from vehicle to vehicle, person to person ensuring that everyone was okay, that the perimeter had been appropriately set. She informed her lieutenants there would be no meeting tonight; they would discuss their plans the next morning. She simple did not possess the energy for strategy and discussion and decision-making.

K-mart had decided to eat with Carlos, to keep him company since LJ wasn't feeling well and went to sleep nearly as soon as they had made camp. Alice was… well… Alice always did what she wanted, went where she wanted, but she always came back. There was never any discussion about it, but Alice always slept in the Hummer now, usually in the passenger's seat. During the day, she always rode with Claire and sometimes even drove.

If she wasn't with Claire, she was usually with K-mart. The teenager had taken an immediate shine to her, despite Alice's obvious discomfort with being anyone's "hero." Gradually though, Alice had relaxed, and the two spent hours talking. Usually K-mart asked questions, and Alice answered them. On one of their scavenging trips, Alice had found a book of ancient mythology that was not too badly damaged. Now K-mart carried it with her wherever she went, and they would discuss the different myths and legends, Alice supplementing them with stories not found in the book.

Those moments were some of the most endearing, Claire found. Alice obviously did not have any experience with adolescents, but she did remarkably well with K-mart. The two would huddle together and squint at a passage in the book in the pale firelight. Alice's face was so… calm in those moments, void of the usual tension and reserve found there.

"You're bleeding."

Claire started out of her thoughts at the sound of her voice, realized she had been staring into the fire, not paying heed to the sound of approaching footsteps. "What?"

Alice pursed her lips in what Claire realized was disapproval. "You're bleeding." Without waiting for an answer, she snagged a nearby canteen and knelt at Claire's side. "Here." Gently, she touched two fingers to the back of Claire's upper arm, and only then did the redhead feel the tightening of pain.

"Oh." Claire blinked. In the rush of combat, with adrenalin throbbing behind her eyes and in her ears, she had not noticed. "It's not—"

Shaking her head, Alice gingerly examined the wound. "No. It's a cut or gash. It's scabbed." Bites from the Infected did not scab; they remained open and wept until the Infection killed. Claire exhaled in relief. "But it needs to be clean or it will become a different kind of infected. Which can still kill you." Alice smirked and poured water onto a clean cloth she had produced. "You'll just stay dead."

Normally, Claire avoided this sort of closeness with the other woman. Physical contact was too agonizing; it chafed against her defenses, weakened them. But she was too exhausted to resist tonight.

The damp cloth was cold against her skin as Alice wiped away the dried blood, cleaned around the edges of the wound before fetching a first aid kit from the Hummer. Alice rested a slender hand on her shoulder, and Claire closed her eyes at the human contact.

The simple gesture seemed to ease all the rampant thoughts that took residence in Claire's mind. She leaned into the touch, just slightly, and relaxed under it. Their problems, the Infection, their journey to Alaska could all wait while Claire closed her eyes under a pure, starry night while Alice tended her injury.

"You take care of everyone else; you should take care of yourself," Alice said sternly, ripping open the packaging of a sterile wipe.

Claire hissed at the unexpected sting as the cut was swabbed. "Don't nag, Alice," she said dryly, feeling her temper unexpectedly flare. "It doesn't become you."

The two women were silent for several minutes as Alice carefully cleaned the wound. "You should be more careful." Alice's voice was uncharacteristically firm, and it took Claire a moment to realize that the firmness was actually anger. "What if this got infected? You need to pay more attention to your _own_ well-being."

Who did Alice think she was? They were not lovers; they were not partners. They were friends, and lately, even that was strained. She had no right to speak to Claire as if she were a child. But deep down, there was a tiny whisper of fear, of hurt, that she had caused Alice to be angry with her. And that only made Claire angrier.

She jerked her shoulder away from Alice's hands as she tried to lay the gauze bandage over the cleaned cut. "Why? When I have you to look after me?" Claire shot back icily. Jerking away again as Alice tried once again to place the bandage, she winced at the movement.

"Someone has to," Alice said quietly, her jaw clenched.

"I'm not your responsibility!"

"Well, you haven't been very responsible for yourself lately."

It had been so easy to surrender to her anger, to allow herself to be angry with Alice rather than have a calm, rational discussion with her. The balance of their relationship shifted yet again, but she was too livid to care. Claire scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Oh? And how do you know? Living on your own the past four years certainly has given you great insight into other people considering you barely interact with them."

"Goddammit, Claire!" Alice shouted and leapt to her feet, the unapplied bandage still in one hand. "Do you think you're the only one that hurts? The only one who feels guilty?"

It was the first time Claire had ever heard Alice raise her voice, and she flinched. Alice was the most reserved, quiet-natured person she had ever met. Half the time she seemed scared of her own shadow, like a feral animal, ready to bolt at the first too-sudden movement. When she did speak, it was always quiet and calm and deliberate. The irate woman pacing in front of her was more like a panther, coiled strength ready to pounce, a predator.

She wanted to defiantly yell back, to scream at Alice and push her away, but Claire found that she could not. Seeing Alice so uncharacteristically angry and having that anger directed towards her was devastating. Her chest thudded with the all-too-familiar anguish and eyes stung with unshed tears. Of course she wasn't the only one to have experienced tremendous loss or grief.

Though she might know the particulars, she knew Alice well enough to know her normally reserved demeanor was a shield, a cover to hide her own pain and loss. Carlos had filled in a few details from his experiences with Alice in Raccoon City and afterwards, but something still haunted Alice, caused her to cry out in her sleep.

Alice was not being controlling, not deliberately anyway. She was not angry because Claire wasn't careful; she was terrified. For years Alice wandered a solitary witness to the Infection and death of the world, and now she finally allowed herself to be around people again, to form friendships and bonds. The idea of losing the friendship that meant most to her was utterly paralyzing.

Staring into the fire, Claire said nothing, nor did she pull away when Alice stopped pacing and knelt by her side again. Like a flame abruptly snuffed out, Alice's anger was diffused. Softly, lovingly, Alice put the bandage on the cut, smoothing the adhesive edges with her fingertips.

Turning her head at the withdrawal of Alice's touch, Claire met her eyes, those blue eyes that contained all the pain, all the hurt, all the love, all the promise that Alice felt.

"Why do we do this to each other?" Alice whispered, sitting back on her heels and folding her hands in her lap.

"I'll only fail you, Alice. Like I failed Otto and Betty and Mike and Lisa. Like I failed everyone." Claire felt her resolve hardening again, and she pulled it to her, wrapping her determination around her like an impenetrable cloak. That determination was strangely comforting. If Alice was this pained at the thought of losing her now, how much worse would it be if they were lovers? If they gave into their feelings, it would kill Alice to lose Claire. As much as it hurt, this was better; this was the best way she knew to protect Alice.

Standing, Alice dusted the sand from the palms of her hands. "Thanks." She gestured to the bandage on her shoulder, her voice much more confident now. "We should rest. We'll get up early so we can decide where we go from here."

She did not wait for Alice's reply; she strode off to the Hummer to fetch her blankets so she could bed down for the night. Yes, this was best. She'd protect both of them this way; it was no different than holding herself aloof from the convoy, always being strong so they had a leader, so they survived.

Even if it left her feeling hollow and cold.

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><p><strong>I swear shit will start happening in the next chapter. And one of these days Claire will cave in... probably...<strong>

**Please review and let me know what you think. Buenos noches! **


	4. Chapter Fourth

**_EDIT: SORRY... Updated one sentence..._**

**Again, thank you for all the support. Your reviews keep me motivated.**

**And to show my thanks, I'm posting two days in a row. Things are starting to pick up. I am also on an abundance of pain medication, but this has been bouncing around my head for a few days now. But I apologize for any mistakes. Please continue to leave your feedback!**

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><p>Claire was dreaming.<p>

She did not often dream; nightmares more commonly won out for control of her subconscious.

Standing alone, she could not identify her surroundings. There seemed to be only sky and earth. The ground under her feet was indistinct, but the sky was overwhelming. There were no trees, no landmarks, no rocks or vehicles or buildings, nothing marring the landscape, no marks on the horizon. There was nothing between earth and sky but Claire.

It wasn't the desert sky. Not the clear, sullen blue sky that she was so accustomed to. It was day, there was ample light to see, but the sun was lost underneath the solid clot of clouds that stretched from horizon to horizon in all directions. It was gray, all shadow and unmoving swathes of clouds. Claire felt swallowed by the enormity of sky on all sides of her, as if it only by sheer force of will that her feet managed to stay planted to the ground, that she did not float up into the nothingness. She could gaze in any direction and see into the infinite nothing, into the blankness without end.

It began to rain at once. It was a fast, steady rain that pelted straight down in fat drops. There was no wind to blow it sideways or in sheets. Unaccompanied by thunder or lightning or thunder, the rain continued to fall. Claire was not bothered by the rain; instead she was enamored with it, unable to recall the last time she had felt the rain on her skin. The world turned grayer.

Without any bearing on the passage of time, it might have rained for hours or minutes, but Claire did not move from where she stood. Abruptly, the rain in front of her seemed to roll towards her, like a sheet of sheer fabric being pulled towards her and in its place was left a curtain of silver. It shone like glass, seeming to catch what little light there was and reflecting it, like crystal or a mirror. Yet unlike a mirror, it did not reflect her image. Still pelted by the rain, she reached towards the silver glass.

And then she saw it. Peace beat in her heart and swiftly spread to her chest and to the rest of her body. She no longer felt the rain falling against her skin or face, no longer saw the shadow of the clouds. Calmness dawned upon her like a swift sunrise, and she was warm and safe. Tears streamed down her cheeks with a happiness as poignant and heart-aching as grief.

"_Claire!"_ The scream that ripped her from the dream was shrill and desperate. She reached for the handle of the Hummer's door and stumbled out before she had even fully opened her eyes. K-mart screamed again, and Claire forced herself to shake off the dream, the last lingering effects of sleep and snatch her shotgun from the backseat.

Her mind was already racing with a million possibilities of what could be wrong. More crows? Had the horde from Las Vegas found them already? No, that was impossible. Besides, the camp was too quiet for there to be a horde present, and the perimeter alarms would have sounded, waking them all up with ample time to prepare a defense. No alarm sounded. Besides sounds of a scuffle coming from near the tanker truck and muffled, masculine voices, the camp was relatively quiet with most people either not wakened by the scream or locked in their vehicles waiting for Claire's orders.

Why had K-mart screamed for her?

Alice fell into step beside Claire, and they raced toward the only source of sound in the camp, the direction where K-mart's scream had emanated. Of all the scenarios that Claire had ticked through her mind, none had come relatively close to what she actually found.

K-mart had flattened herself against the side of the tanker truck, fear paralyzing her in place. Next to her, the passenger door was still flung open. Chase's upper body hung out of the open door, his arms dangling uselessly above his head, which was cocked at a sickening angle, most of the flesh at his throat ragged and torn. Blood streamed from the wound down the side of his face. One sleeve of his plaid flannel shirt was shredded to the elbow. He was already dead.

At Claire's feet lay a pistol. And several yards away Mikey and LJ wrestled and thrashed in the sand.

No. It was not LJ. One glimpse of his normal caramel skin told that it had ashed to white-gray, sallow and waxen. Claire was close enough to see that the whites of his eyes were bloodshot, the pupils already milky and dead.

Without thought, she skidded to a halt and raised her shotgun, her cheek pressing against the cool stock. But there was too much movement as Mikey fought to throw LJ off of him; she could not shoot without hitting the Australian. LJ already had size on Mikey and now fought with the heedless strength of the Infected, who never grew winded, never tired.

Alice had kept moving when Claire had stopped, one of her kukri blades already in her hand. Apparently it was the only weapon she had grabbed in her urgency. Her weapons belt, duster jacket, even boots had all been left in the backseat of the Hummer.

Somersaulting over the two men, she reached out with her free hand and snagged the back of LJ's shirt. Untucking her body, she nimbly landed on her feet and used her backward momentum to pull the Infected man backwards with her. It was just enough to allow Mikey a split moment to crab-crawl backwards before Alice swung her kukri blade in a blurring arc over her head.

Severed just below the chin, LJ's head thudded and rolled to the desert sand. Releasing her hold on his shirt, Alice let his body slump down next to it.

Everything seemed to freeze for a moment as Alice, Claire, K-mart and Mikey held their breaths, as if expecting the headless Infected to rise yet again. When he didn't, K-mart threw herself at Claire, impacting with enough force to cause Claire to stagger backwards a few steps.

Throwing her shotgun to the ground, Claire hugged the younger woman to her, one arm wrapped around her shoulders, the other around her waist. K-mart buried her face in her shoulder. The heaving of her chest was unsteady and labored, but the teenager was not crying. Her resilience amazed Claire.

Looking over K-mart's shoulder, she saw Alice kneeling next to the corpse, wiping her blade clean on LJ's shirt, her face painted with impassive stoicism. Carlos stood beside her, raking his fingers through his close cropped black hair. When had he gotten there?

Another glance at Chase's body, and Claire gently extricated herself from K-mart's arms.

"K-mart, what happened?"

Inhaling deeply, K-mart shook her head, refusing to meet Claire's intense, questioning eyes. "I… I don't know. I was sleeping in the truck with LJ and Chase… Chase was telling me some of the old Greek myths he had read about in high school, and I figured I'd just stay with them and give you and Alice some time… y'know… alone and LJ was already sleeping…" She said in a rush, barely pausing to breathe. Claire stiffened at the mention of her and Alice spending time "alone," but dismissed her discomfort. There would be time enough later to correct the teenager's perceptions.

"…and when I woke up LJ was already on Chase and he," K-mart sobbed dryly and swallowed hard. "he was already dead and I guess I climbed over him and got out of the truck and screamed. Mikey showed up first and pulled him off of me but LJ knocked the gun out of his hand and… and then you got here…"

Pulling her into a crushingly tight hug, Claire kissed the top of her head. "It's okay, it's okay. You did good." But her face was dark with fury, even as she reassured her. How could this happen? LJ knew he had been bitten but he hid it from everyone, let everyone think he was fine. How could he endanger the entire convoy like that? That selfish fucking bastard had rather risked killing the people he called friends than put a bullet through his miserable skull. He should have ate his gun the moment he realized he was Infected. That's what Claire would do, rather than become one of those things, rather than turn on the people she cared about.

"Claire." Alice said softly.

"What?" She snapped.

"Claire." Mikey said this time, his voice quavering. He was still sitting on the ground where he had scampered back to, but his pistol still lay on the ground. One of his hands was clamped around the opposite forearm, but Claire could still see the blood oozing between his fingers, leaking onto the sand.

"No." Fear lurched in her gut, and releasing K-mart, she knelt in front of him. "No, you're fine. Let me see."

His face white with fear, Mikey still smiled shakily and tentatively offered her his arm. "What do you think, Doctor? I think this merits a prescription of medical marijuana, do you think?"

She peeled his fingers away from the wound, and her heart sank lower. The circular wound was doubtlessly a bite; the skin had raggedly been pulled away from the upper half, but there were distinct bite marks in a semi-circle along the bottom.

Behind her, she heard Carlos curse in Spanish and K-mart cry out.

"Oh, Mikey…"

"Don't," His uninjured hand sought out Claire's. He shook his head vehemently, the skin around his mouth pinched and white. "I'm already dead. Don't apologize."

Claire closed her eyes, willing it not to be true. When she opened her eyes this would be a cruel joke and she would be furious with the others for playing it on her, but ultimately relieved that it wasn't true. But when she opened her eyes, Mikey was still staring at her, his bloody hand still tightly clenching her own.

Mikey always had a crush on her, an innocent sort of infatuation. But Claire had never allowed him the chance to even consider acting on it or professing his feelings. Not that he needed to; it was obvious how he felt, how his face lit up whenever they spoke, how he flashed that dazzling white smile at her. But she had made it utterly clear that she had no interest in romance. Then Alice had come along. How it must have tortured him to see the two of them interact. Had she been as obvious in her feelings as he had been?

"Will you do it?" Mikey asked through clenched teeth. "I don't want to be…" He spared a look at LJ's body. "I don't want to be one of them. But I don't think. I'll just botch it up. Never was any good with a gun." He grinned, still joking despite what he asked of Claire.

Her gut reaction was to deny him, but when she opened her mouth she could not. Biting her lower lip, she nodded. Not taking her eyes from his, she slowly nodded. "Get K-mart out of here."

"Claire-" Carlos began, the pity in his voice clear.

"Go!" Claire shouted, and then whispered. "This is my responsibility."

When the shuffling of feet faded, Mikey squeezed her hand reassuringly. "It's okay, Claire. Promise." His voice was genuinely compassionate.

"You're reassuring me?"

He released her hand and reached for his pistol and pressed it into her hand. "Just promise me. The only choice we have, the only decision we can make is what to do with the time we have. Promise me you'll remember that?" The pistol was cool against Claire's palm, heavy. Their eyes locked one last time, and Mikey nodded, withdrawing his hands. "Okay," He nodded as if trying to convince himself. "I'm ready."

Everyone was awake in the camp by now, but it was deathly silent, like a grave before the first shovelful of earth fills it.

A shot cleaved the silence with a deafening crack. Silence passed with seconds before a second shot followed.

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><p><strong>A cliff-hanger? Perhaps.<strong>

_**Sorry for the edit... I tweaked Mikey's final words.**_

**Please sate my feedback addiction. Please?**


	5. Chapter Fif

**Thank you to all who have continued to review and favorite this story. It might be a few days before I update again, just because work has called me out of town yet again. Cape Canaveral here I come!**

**Anygay... I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter, but here it is.**

**And please continue to review. The more you review, the more pumped up I get about writing this. Yes. I am that self-absorbed. It's true.**

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><p>The second bullet ensured that Chase would not rise, that his death would not be desecrated by the T-virus.<p>

It was the final insult to the cowboy who had been genial, good-natured if not sarcastic in life. In death, he was still her friend, still the man that she man that she remembered, until Claire placed a bullet in the middle of his forehead. If the brain and spinal cord were left intact, he would reanimate; his legs and arms and mouth moving of their own volition, he would become one of the Infected, attacking those he had spent the past five years protecting, surviving with. She owed it to him not to allow that to happen.

The bullet left a tidy hole in his brow, but as the bullet tore and scythed through skull and brain and skin to hit the ground beneath him, it punched a gaping hole in the back of his head.

Claire had pulled the three bodies from where they had fallen to line up next to lay next to one another. While she was still alone, she scavenged blankets from the tanker truck and wrapped the corpses, covered their faces. No one else should have to see their friends slain and mutilated if they did not have to, and she would not be able to bury the bodies alone.

She saved Mikey for last, spreading out the old woolen military-issue woolen blanket out on the ground before rolling his body onto it. She wrapped him gently, tenderly as if he was merely sleeping and she did not want to wake him. Smoothing his blond curls from his forehead, she let her hand rest there for a moment. She had already said good-bye, but it still took several moments for her to cover his face, not quite willing to let go yet.

There was not time to mourn. No time to think of the calm acceptance in Mikey's eyes when he pressed his pistol in her hand. No time to grieve the loss of three good men who had helped Claire hold this convoy together for years.

No. There were duties to attend to, work to be done. The rest of the convoy did not need to see her lose her composure, go to pieces. She had to show them that they were strong, could hold it together. This would not destroy them. The convoy needed leadership, someone to guide them through their grief, to convince them not to give up.

After LJ, Chase, and Mikey were buried under the desert sands where they had died, Claire immediately set about reorganizing the convoy. The sun was up by then, and they needed to get moving again, away from this place, this gravesite.

She assigned Carlos to drive the tanker truck. They would still need it to store fuel. Carlos was the most capable of driving the massive eighteen-wheeled truck. But that left the media van without a driver now that Mikey was dead. It could not be left behind. It contained all their electronic equipment, their perimeter monitoring system, their radios. She assigned Alice to drive it, at least for the day, until she could figure out a better course of action. There were other adults in the convoy she would ask, once the shock of yet another loss wore off.

Alice accepted the assignment with a curt nod, her silent protest was unspoken, but still clear in her eyes.

When she had first joined the convoy, Claire had expected Alice to chafe at being under someone else's leadership, and Claire had made utterly clear to explain that this was _her_ convoy, her responsibility. But despite being obviously accustomed to being in charge herself and being a natural leader, Alice had seamlessly assimilated into the group. Though both women were alphas, leaders, Alice seemed unthreatened by Claire and did not trespass on her authority. When others came to Alice for instruction, she always deferred to Claire. She was the first to lend her agreement and support to whatever instructions or plans Claire put out; their disagreements were always private, so it never appeared that she was undermining Claire's authority.

But Claire had expected her to buck under this order nonetheless and was surprised when she did not.

Camp was broken, vehicles were loaded, comrades were buried.

They traveled only half a day, until they found an isolated gas station where they could make camp. The convoy was still drifting aimlessly since Las Vegas. Had that been only yesterday that they were there? Everyone could use more rest while they decided what to do.

The convoy quickly set about their duties. Claire and Alice cleared the actually gas station. There were no Infected present, thankfully. Carlos checked the station's reservoirs for gasoline. K-mart led the other children in a scavenger hunt for canned goods or other items they might be able to use while the rest of the adults tended to the vehicles or found wood for the evening campfires and set up the outer perimeter.

The fires had crackled to life as dusk began to bruise the sky, and what remained of the lieutenants of Claire's convoy gathered in the back of the media van.

There were so few of them now that the back of the van had more than enough space for a meeting. It was down to Carlos and Claire and Alice now. K-mart had refused to be left alone, so now she sat next to Alice.

"Well, the good news is, I was surprised at how much gas there was still in the reservoirs." Carlos began, scratching his beard. "More than we have scored in a single place in a very long time."

"How much is that?" Claire asked, preparing to do the mental calculations.

He thought for a moment. "The capacity of the tanker is 6,000 gallons. I think there is about enough to fill it a quarter full. But I won't know for sure until we manage to pump it all out of the reservoir." He nodded, as if agreeing with his own estimate.

"That's 1,500 gallons. That might be enough to get us to Alaska." Alice pointed out, leaning forward, her elbows on her knees. Glacier blue eyes sought out Claire's.

"I don't want to risk getting stranded in the middle of some of the most isolated land in North America because we "might" have enough to get us there." Claire said neutrally. "And we can't risk hitting a big city again either. We don't have the manpower now."

"So we just give up?" K-mart interjected incredulously. "Quit before we even really tried?" Normally, she wasn't a part of these discussions, but she did not let that stop her from adding her opinion. Claire was initially annoyed by the teenager's audacity, but something else vied for dominance. Pride, she realized with a faint smile. How much had the little girl grown up in the years since they had found her alone and scared in a K-mart parking lot? When had she stopped being a child and become an adult with her own opinions and ideas? That was something at least, something good to hold onto.

"No, we just need more fuel."

"And food." Carlos scratched his beard. It was an unconscious habit whenever he was thinking. "Even if we get there, we won't have enough to last very long."

"So where can we get enough food and fuel to last us that isn't a big city?"

The van was silent while they thought.

"A military installation." Alice finally said.

Claire frowned. "Why?"

"Military bases are built to be defensible and self-sustaining." Carlos answered for her, his eyes widening. "They would have several fuel pumps. Their supply warehouse would have MREs. But what makes you think they haven't already been raided? Wouldn't the soldiers take everything when they left?"

Alice shook her head. "They couldn't take everything. MREs are incredibly bulky. Each box has 12 MREs, each pallet has twenty boxes. We could fit two, maybe two and a half pallets onto the deuce and a half. Their warehouses are huge. Unless they had a convoy of a hundred trucks, they couldn't empty it. Besides," Her lips formed a thin line, a wry smirk. "There probably weren't enough people left to take it all."

"And civilians wouldn't know where to look to scavenge. Every damn military building looks the same," Carlos added, his accent thickening just slightly with excitement. "It's a good idea, Claire."

Nodding her agreement, Alice held her hands out to Claire, palms up, a conciliatory gesture. "It's your call, Claire."

The camp was quiet.

The normal fires burned in defiance of the chill breath of the night. The survivors huddled in small circles next to their vehicles, throwing dice or speaking in hushed tones, mumbled whispers. Forced normalcy had settled over the group like a linen bandage over a wound. Everyone tried to conduct their nightly activities as usual, but no one's heart was in it. Even eating the nightly meal was an affair undertaken with half-hearted effort.

It had hit everyone hard, but they talked about anything, everything else. There was a false sense of calm. During the day there had been distractions, when night fell there was nothing left to fill the vacuum left by the dead. They had buried three of their comrades that morning, pillars of the convoy, but no one wanted admit it, talk about it, remember it. Talking about it made the reality much more tangible, much more unbearable.

The Hummer's rear door was swung open, and Claire sat in the back, her arms wrapped loosely around her knees, feet resting on the rear bumper. She didn't have her hat on, or her usual button down shirt, despite the cool night. Her shoulders and arms were bare against the night chill. She stared sightlessly into the camp, at those who still sat outside their vehicles.

Death. Loss. With all her duties tended to, there was nothing keeping the numbness of grief at bay. She had agreed to head towards the nearest military installation, Fort Lewis in Washington, but it seemed hopeless.

When they had buried Mikey and LJ and Chase, no one had offered any final words, any prayers or stories or memories. Not even Claire. It hurt too much to remember them as they had been in life; she could not give it voice or she would break. But alone, she remembered them. Every smile and laughter they had shared, their words of wisdom, LJ's insane stories and lies about his life, Mikey's insistence that they keep searching for other survivors, never give up hope.

She punished herself with these memories and the memories of the others. Otto, Betty, Micah, Tiffany… there were so many, but she forced herself to remember them all. Each of their deaths was an individual blow, a personal failing. They had been her people to protect, and she had failed each one of them. She bore the burden of each of their deaths separately. None was more important than the other. She had a duty that she had failed to perform. What was more, each of these people were friends, and she had broken the promise of their friendship by allowing them to die.

Once, she had been a college student. Her biggest concern was making it through finals or applying for financial aid. She had been happy and idealistic; she wanted to be a veterinarian, help people, help animals. Her brother had been her hero, though they had only saw each other on holidays since he joined S.T.A.R.S. in Raccoon City.

She did not know if he had even survived. The young Claire that always smiled, that loved animals and laughing and softball games on Sunday afternoons with her friends, had not survived. People were not the only things that the T-virus killed. Innocence, happiness, youth had all been victims of the Infection.

The young version of Claire, who knew nothing of violence or leading others to survival, whose only real loss had been her grandparents when she had been too young to understand the finality or devastation of death, was gone.

Her grief was as raw as a physical wound. Anguish wound its constricting fingers around her heart and chest, but she refused to let the tears that pricked her eyes fall. Tonight, she felt the agony of loss. Not just of Mikey and Chase and all the others she had failed to protect, but the loss of her younger self, a young woman she had failed as surely as any of her friends.

Alice approached from the media van. She had handed the keys and responsibility of the vehicle to Joel, whom Claire had decided would be in charge of it from now on. Suddenly, she regretted making that decision tonight. Alice could have stayed with the van at least one more night; Claire wanted to be alone.

Instead of going straight to her, Alice rounded the side of the SUV and retrieved one of the sleeping bags from the back seat. She unzipped it as she made were way back to the strawberry-blonde woman and wrapped it around her shoulders.

Claire did not acknowledge her, did not break her gaze from the night sky. Removing her duster, Alice cast it over the rear door of the Hummer before sitting next to Claire, and was silent for several minutes.

"It isn't your fault."

Claire's jaw tightened, but she still didn't look at Alice. "Oh no?" she asked wryly. "I was responsible for them."

"But you aren't responsible for what happened to them." Alice shrugged and said simply, as if she were observing something so obvious it need not be stated.

Finally, Claire whipped her head to the side to face her, green eyes furious with unshed tears. "They depended on me. They were my people!" She hissed through clenched teeth. If anyone knew her guilt, understood her feelings, it should be Alice.

"And you didn't kill them!" Alice replied with a ferocity that was equal to Claire's though it was quieter, wrought by conviction rather than grief. "You'll probably always feel guilty about it. I know I do." A cool breeze tousled Claire's hair, blowing strands of strawberry blonde into her face. Tentatively, Alice reached out, brushed them aside, her voice more gentle. "But you still have a responsibility to those of us still alive. We're depending on you. And if you don't have to keep this bottled inside; it will break you. You don't have to do this alone. Carlos, K-mart, me… we're all here for you."

Abruptly, Claire turned her gaze away, the urge to lean into Alice's touch was too overwhelming. She was suddenly so tired. "No matter what I do, it never seems enough." She said finally, giving voice to her true feelings for the first time. She did not have the energy to fend Alice off, to push her away with denials of grief or brush her off by telling her she was fine. "I can never beat the Infection. We are surviving, but how can I protect them when everything in this world is conspiring to kill us, when all that's left is death and violence and destruction. How can we survive that?"

There was a weighted pause as Alice considered what Claire said. She pointed up at the sky, to the dark night that hung above them. "Do you see that star? The really bright one." Claire looked where she pointed and nodded when she spotted the star that Alice meant. "Just look at it a minute."

Claire did.

It was a bright star, though maybe not the brightest, peaking out behind the few clouds that had gathered. It twinkled white against the purple black sky, like a diamond against black velvet. The beauty of it contrasted with the barren, forsaken desert.

"There are places that the darkness cannot touch." Alice whispered. "The shadow of this world is only a small thing that will pass in time; there will always be light and beauty forever beyond its reach." Alice was gazing up at the star as well, as if seeing it gave her great comfort.

Claire felt it, a shaft of warmth piercing the cold. But then she lowered her eyes to the earthly desolation surrounding her. "They depended on me. How do I beat back the shadow? I've failed so many times."

"You do the best you can. You don't have to do it alone."

"No," Claire shook her head; K-mart might not be a child any longer, but she was still too young to hear of Claire's misgivings, her hopelessness. And Carlos… men did not understand emotions in the same way as their female counterparts. She had to hold it together, be confident even if she wasn't, for the good of the convoy. They needed someone they could depend to, look to for guidance and strength in times like these.

The ghost of a touch whispered on Claire's cheek, firmed as Alice cupped her face with a small, delicate hand, turning Claire's face towards her. It was intimate, but not romantic.

Claire had managed to keep herself composed the entire night, even though she could not shake the image Mikey's face, so open with adoration even as Claire squeezed the trigger. Or the image of the fresh graves they had buried their comrades in. Or the sound of the killing shot being fired.

But the older woman's touch, the warmth of her palm against her cheek had undone her. She squeezed her eyes shut but tears still slipped through unbidden. When she opened her eyes and spoke, her voice did not quaver. "I have to be strong for them."

Alice shook her head and hesitated, her expression contorted with pain and conflict. "You don't have to be strong for me."

The first sob came as if the tears were frozen, and Claire felt herself be immediately gathered into Alice's arms. She wept for Mikey, wept that she had been the one to kill him. She wept for Chase and LJ and Otto and Betty. She wept for the nameless victims of the T-virus, for the loss of everything that seemed to be good in the world. She wept for the death of the world, for the world she had grown up in that K-mart would never know. She wept for herself. She wept for the love she could not allow herself.

The forced numbness that Claire so meticulously maintained shattered and bled hot, consuming anguish.

In Alice's arms, pressed against the subtle, slender curves of the other woman, she mourned the loss of everything she had never allowed herself to grieve in half a decade, allowing all of her fears and failures rise to the surface. She wept for the both of them.

And in Alice's arms, she made herself utterly vulnerable, stripped naked of every wall and barrier she had built to protect herself, yet she felt safe. Her head cradled to Alice's chest, encircled by strong arms, she wept for all the beauty of the stars, and it was okay.

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><p><strong>I am torn by which I like more, the ending of this chapter or the beginning of the last chapter. I've been trying something new with each chapter of this story, which is really obscure and nerdy, but maybe I'll tell y'all about it when the story is finished.<strong>

**Please review! **


	6. Chapter Sixth

**Sorry for the delay in updating. After a crappy work trip and a tooth I'm ready to tie to someone's trailer hitch and let them yank it out as they speed away... I've been less in the mood of writing.**

**So here is a quick chapter to tide y'all over until the next one. I'm sorry if it's not very good or fails. I apologize for mistakes. And I apologize for the suck. **

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><p>The sun broke over the trees with the swift dawn. What amazed Claire was how green the country was. It seemed less of northern forest of deciduous trees punctuated by pungent alpine slopes. It was a thick, evergreen jungle of trees with broad leaves and verdant vines and bushes with bright flowers. It was a far green country, far from the desert and Infection.<p>

Crickets and frogs chirped a broken chorus, as if announcing the arrival of another day. Birds squawked and fluttered through the branches, perturbed by Claire's intrusion into their forest. Something rustled in the undergrowth to her left; a squirrel or snake perhaps. There was life here, a frenetic pulse of the forest that beat with every shrill bird and chitter of squirrel, as chaotic and thrilling as the desert was dead.

How long had they traveled to reach this place? This haven? This is what lay beyond the silver glass of her dream: a peace that Claire rarely knew, a still contentment of her heart. None of the running, the death, the loss mattered anymore at this end to their journey. It all melted away like the last bit of night, chased away with the rising sun.

It was hope, Claire realized.

Slender arms encircled her waist from behind, the warmth of a body pressed to her back. Alice placed a gentle kiss on the base of Claire's neck. Smiling, Claire reached behind her without looking and ran her fingers through Alice's hair. Neither of them spoke. Words were not needed for this moment.

The couple stood in silence, content in their new paradise, content in one another's arms.

Eventually, Claire turned in the embrace, looped her arms around Alice's neck and kissed her. It was different from their first kiss, which had been slow and agonizing. This kiss was passionate, as Claire held nothing back that she had denied herself over the past months. Alice returned the kiss, pulling her closer, pushing their bodies together.

Claire gasped as Alice's tongue slipped in between her lips, teasing. Strong hands caressed her back, reaching underneath her shirt to make contact with bare skin.

The sky darkened; the sun retreated under clouds. Not dark clouds, angry and oppressive, but gray clouds, light with promise of rain. Claire opened her eyes and glanced up as the first drop of rain hit her shoulder. The break in their kiss gave Alice the opening she needed to slip her hands under the front of Claire's shirt. Rain. Six years ago it had just been weather. Now it was more than that.

Arching into Alice's touch as her hands cupped her breasts, Claire whimpered. A long suppressed desire woke within her, and she crushed her lips to the other woman's again, surrendering herself to need, letting the warm rain rinse the dust of the desert from their bodies.

Inquisitive fingers found their way past the waistband of her jeans, her underwear. Unable to resist the swelling need, Claire pushed herself down on Alice's fingers. "Please…" She breathed, fisting her hand in Alice's hair, pulling her closer. Her eyes sought Alice's glacier blue eyes, searching them for the same desire that she herself felt. Alice's eyes were dark, and she obliged, slipping two fingers into Claire, her opposite arm around her waist, supporting the redhead when her knees buckled.

Claire could not break the gaze she and Alice shared, even while following the languid pace Alice's fingers set with a roll of her hips. "I love you, Alice," Claire whispered breathlessly, and Alice smiled the true, genuine smile that had broken Claire's heart weeks ago, only now it seemed to mend her.

The gray curtain of rain descended on the two lovers, cloaking them in a misted veil.

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><p>Claire woke with a start, disoriented. She attempted to sit up with the sudden jog into wakefulness, but an arm cast about her midsection kept her in place. Her tank top clung to her skin with moisture. Several quick heartbeats passed before it registered with Claire that she was not still damp with rain, but from sweat. Her skin was flushed, hot, and it had very little to do with the body heat from the woman behind her.<p>

Or perhaps a lot to do with it, Claire thought as the full effect of the dream hit her. The second flush that washed over her was embarrassment. _Oh fuck_. She thought, reaching up to cover her eyes with her hands. Embarrassment was quickly replaced by a sinking, sickening weight that started in her chest and descended into the pit of her stomach.

It had been a dream. The green forest, the end of fear, the respite for the constant battle for survival, Alice… Alice's fingers… it had been a dream. Claire wanted to weep with frustration. For a moment she thought that they were safe, that they had left the desert and the T-virus far behind.

The desert was still there, outside of the Hummer, and beyond that the T-virus still lay in wait. The reality was crushing.

Alice stirred behind her.

The other woman had held Claire while she cried, offering her the only solace that could be had for such horror, such grief: the comfort of another human's embrace. Alice had all but carried Claire to the backseat of the Hummer, laying the pair of them down, Alice's front pressed to Claire's back, arms wrapped around her. She had pulled a blanket over them and held Claire until the fitful tears subsided into sleep.

"What's wrong?" Alice said softly, her voice husky with sleep.

Swallowing, Claire tried to smooth the unsettled edges of her voice. "Nothing. Just a nightmare. Sorry I woke you."

It had not been a nightmare. It was a dream. A wonderful, perfect dream, but Claire wished it had been a nightmare instead. A nightmare was easily combatted once awake; she could dismiss the terror, the pain by reminding herself it had only been a nightmare, it had not been real. But this dream… there was no such consolation. Reminding herself it had not been real caused the nauseating pain to double in force. It had not been real, and the truth of it almost made Claire lose herself to tears again.

As if sensing Claire's unease, Alice propped herself up on an elbow. "Are you sure? You were whimpering in your sleep."

"Yes," Claire hoped her voice didn't sound too strangled. Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to control the physical symptoms of her dream. The thudding of her heart, the perspiration matting her hair to her brow, the pronounced rise and fall of her chest, the wetness in between her legs… She could not open her eyes, not to see Alice gazing down at her, brow furrowed in concern.

Waking up to find that had only been a dream had been torture enough. Waking up aroused, wrapped in the arms of the woman who had been, in her dream, fucking her, was beyond torture. It was unnerving and humiliating. If she had still believed in god, Claire would have prayed that Alice did not notice, prayed that her hyper alert senses would not pick up on the signs Claire's body betrayed.

"Claire—"

"Thank you," Claire blurted, abruptly cutting Alice off. Whatever she was about to say was dangerous. She had to regain control, for both their sakes. "For last night, for now… I appreciate you being there for me." It sounded thin, even to her own ears. "It's like there is so much darkness and evil and death now. Sometimes I think there can never be any good in the world, that it's all lost. But… thank you, for being there for me… when I needed a friend." Claire squeezed the arm around her waist, feeling the comfort her own emotional walls provided as she drew them back to her.

The hint was not lost on Alice who removed her arm from about Claire's waist and gingerly swept the hair matted to Claire's brow from her face before withdrawing her hand completely. "The world is indeed full of peril and in it there are many dark places. But still there is much that is fair. And though in all lands, love is now mingled with grief, it still grows, perhaps, the greater."

Sitting up, Claire reached for her ball cap and shoulder holster. The quote sounded familiar, but she could not place it. She could not remember the last time she had read anything, let alone given thought to any of the great works of Before. They seemed irrelevant now. "You're quoting literature to me, now?"

Still propped up on her elbow, Alice watched her buckle on the holster. "Just telling you that I'm here for you. I'll always be here for you… when you need a friend."

The last word stung, even though the other woman's tone had not changed, and it had been Claire who quickly reestablished the boundary between them. "I'm going to go check the perimeter." She declared and did not wait for Alice to respond before climbing out of the Hummer, hoping the chill would cool whatever desire still lingered after her dream.

Both women pretended for the other's sake. Claire pretended that what transpired between them meant nothing, that the comfort Alice offered had been a gesture of friendship, that Claire had only sought the solace of a friend's embrace, that the consolation she found was the support of a comrade supporting her through her grief. Friendship was all they could allow themselves; love would destroy them. She pretended that her resolve was as strong as ever, that her walls remained intact. She pretended that the dynamic of their relationship had not been irrevocably changed by accepting Alice's comfort, that she could not keep Mikey's last words from rolling over and over again in her mind.

Alice played along with Claire's wishes, refusing to push her towards acknowledging their feelings for one another. She pretended that what Claire had said was true, that it had only been with friendship that she had gathered Claire into her arms.

Alice pretended that she had not heard Claire cry out for her in her sleep.

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><p><strong>Like I said, a quick chapter until I can work on the next. I'm not sure I like this chapter, but oh well. When the medicine wears off, I'll delete or edit this as needed. Fuck. I hate this pain medication crap. It fucks with my muse.<strong>

**Please review! Pleeeeeaaaaaseeeeeeeeee!**


	7. Chapter Seventh

**Phew. Well, good news. All four of my wisdom teeth have been removed. More good news, I am still medicated. Huzzah!**

**Well this chapter was fun. Lastly, because I'm still all kind of fucked up and junk, I apologize for any mistakes and suckage.**

**As always, reviews are most welcome, and I am not above begging for them.**

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><p>Temptation.<p>

In all the time Alice had traveled with the convoy and in all the time Claire had been aware of her feelings for the other woman, not once had she considered sex.

Certainly, she was in love with Alice, wanted all the things that went with being a person's lover. But her need transcended the physical and hormonal; Claire wanted Alice in a ferociously intimate way. She wanted her touch, her comfort, her strength, her affection, her love. It was inexplicable really. None of these things would solve their problems, change their reality. Yet still Claire craved them.

She had thought about kissing Alice, of course. She had replayed the first kiss they had shared over and over in her mind, imagined different kisses in different moments, different circumstances. Kisses rendered fierce by passion. Kisses agonizing in their slowness. Kisses where Alice healed Claire by the mere touch of their lips, fixing that broken part of her, repairing that ache in her chest.

She supposed that she had thought of sex with Alice before, in some distant, abstract way. But nothing specific. Nothing as remotely graphic as her dream had been.

Sex had rarely entered her mind the past six years. Before, she had been young. Not entirely a virgin, but nor did she have a wealth of experience under her metaphorical belt. Then everything changed. Surviving became the priority: fleeing, fighting, finding food, evading the horde. There were much more important things than her carnal urges. Nothing killed the mood faster than a zombie apocalypse.

Walking the perimeter of the camp in the chill of the pre-dawn desert did nothing to cool her desires. She paced, paying careful attention to the placement of each electronic sentry that would alert them should anything cross into the perimeter. She listened for any sounds, any unnatural shuffle that might hint at an Undead intrusion. She checked with the guards, those left awake in case their alarm system failed.

All was quiet; nothing was out of place. Claire almost hoped for the Infected to find them, perhaps just a few to stumble into camp. The distraction would be more than welcome, and perhaps she could work out some of residual restlessness from her dream by fighting.

The impact of the dream had been more than just physical. To feel so enveloped by happiness, safety, bliss… to feel so careless and free. Only to wake up, stuck in the same hellish reality, the same jagged cruelness, was devastating. More devastating than the dream with the rolling silver glass curtain.

But the emotional effects were easier to stifle, to ignore.

Claire could not ignore the more physical symptoms of her dream.

She was wet. The moisture between her legs had not dried. She could still feel it with every step, cold on her inner thighs.

It was as if Alice was still pressed against her, and Claire could still feel the heat of her body pressed against her. She could still feel the warmth and hunger of her mouth, devouring, plundering hers, and trailing burning kisses down her neck to the hollow of her throat. She could still feel Alice's hands on her skin, calloused palms rough against her hypersensitive bare skin, cupping her breasts, teasing her nipples. She could feel those same hands dipping past the waistband of her trousers, her underwear, lingering for just a moment in the soft curls between her legs before dipping deeper, exploring the wetness.

Claire walked past the same sentry point for the fourth time before ducking into the abandoned gas station. She felt light-headed and dizzy, her breath coming in soft ragged pants as if had just sprinted fifty yards.

Leaning against the cold cinderblock wall of the gas station, she tried to think of something, anything besides Alice or her hands or her mouth. It was impossible. It was if the dream consumed her all over again, and Alice had her pinned against this wall and was thrusting against her.

She bit back a scream of frustration, teeth clamping down on her lower lip until she was sure that she would taste blood. Her entire body felt alive, as if she were a live wire, buzzing, waiting to make a connection and explode with electric current.

Eyes already adjusted to the dim light, she stepped through the convenience store without making a sound, slipping behind the counter and into the back room that at one point served as an office. Silently, she shut the door behind her.

It wasn't much for comfort, but Claire was beyond caring. She surrendered and ran her hands over her shirt, over her body, and thighs, resting for a moment. Her touch felt odd, alien until she imagined that they were Alice's hands. That it was Alice who ran insistent hands over the curves of her body, unbuttoning her trousers.

She imagined that Alice was a demanding lover that did not ask for permission as her hands felt and traveled wherever she pleased. She imagined that Alice was the teasing sort, who would draw out her lover's need to the very brink.

When Claire finally slipped her own hand into her underwear, it was with feral abandon. It wasn't her palm, but Alice's pressing against her clit. It was not her fingers, but Alice's plunging into her.

She wanted Alice to take her, to consume her so that Claire would no longer be able to tell where she began and ended in Alice's arms, hands. She wanted to surrender her body to her and for Alice to take her, make Claire hers in every way. No limits or boundaries, just the two women submitting to their need. Claire grinded against her own hand until her body went rigid.

When she came, it was with a muffled cry. Her body shuddered and clenched around her own fingers. She thrust against Alice's hand, riding the torrential current of the orgasm until she was taken by another, until she finally sagged against the pitiful office desk. Her limbs were numb and tingling; Claire felt depleted as she tenderly slipped her own hand from her pants.

She wiped her fingers on her shirt, expelling a breath that sounded more like a sob. Raggedly, she inhaled and forced herself to slow her breathing, but her heart still thundered in her chest, in her ears, behind her eyes.

As the pleasure subsided, Claire felt empty. The flush of desire that colored her cheeks was tinged with shame. She was alone in a rundown gas station office that smelled of sweat and sex and old papers and dust.

For the second time that night, she cried. Only this time, Alice's hands weren't there to wipe away her tears.

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><p><strong>Since I've been in a lovely hydrocodone stupor for the past week, I've been remiss at responding to reviews, but I do want to deeply thank everyone for all the lovely reviews and wonderful words of encouragement y'all have left me. I really appreciate it. Hearing that y'all like this story motivates me to keep on plugging away at it.<strong>

**This was just kind of a filler chapter until I get back into the swing of writing. And well... I woke up in a "mood" of sorts.**

**Lastly, this week and this week only, when you leave a review, I will dispatch an entire fleet of invisible penguins to spread love and good cheer to you and a person of your choice. So act now before the penguin fleets are gone! Please review. :-)**


	8. Chapter Eighth

**Forgive the delay. I apologize deeply. This is actually the first I've written in a very long time. My father has been sick so my focus has been very much elsewhere. Again, I apologize.**

**And thank you all for your continued support of this story. Your reviews, feedback and well-wishes always make my day and make me smile, so thank you.**

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><p>Furious desert sun glowered down on the convoy as they rolled passed a ceaseless landscape of barren earth. The rolling dunes had given way to hard-packed earth, cracked by infrequent rains and temperatures that seesawed between scorching and freezing, given day or night. The ruin of dead trees, grey and leafless stood dismal sentry along the isolated highway. The land rose in ragged, dirty cliffs and hills in the distance, as dead and bare of life as the rest of the country they had crossed so far.<p>

Claire spat the gummy, gritty taste of dust from her mouth out of the open window and swigged from an old thermos she had filled that morning before they had broken camp. The water was warm, and minerals gave it the coppery tang of blood, but at least it was safe to drink. The windows were down; running the air-conditioning in the vehicles gobbled up too much precious gas to ever use, but even the air that blew through the open windows was hot.

Gritting her teeth, Claire took another long swallow of water before tightening both hands on the steering wheel. They had lost several hours travel time when the main road they had taken ended up blocked by a slide of rock and boulders from a craggy hill. There was no clearing the rubble; it would take some serious machinery and hours for that. Driving around it was out of the question because of the clusterfuck of dead trees and bushes everywhere. Backtracking had been their only option, and it wasted valuable daylight and fuel.

The heat and the roadblock, combined with the previous night's frustrating and unfulfilling self-indulgence in a dusty gas station office, placed the strawberry-blond woman in a foul mood.

Alice had not been in the Hummer when Claire finally returned, thanks be to every merciful god. She had only caught a fleeting glimpse of the other woman when she performed her checks before the convoy rolled out after dawn. Alice had taken the passenger seat next to Carlos in the cab of the fuel tanker and given her only a cursory nod of acknowledgement as she passed.

However, K-mart had decided to take the passenger seat in the Hummer and thankfully had remained quiet most of the day, her nose buried in that damn book.

But now she sat silently, gazing out the window with her knees pulled to her chest, arms wrapped around them. The wind had pulled a lock of ash-blond hair free from her ponytail and toyed with it, casting it back and forth on the whim of changing wind currents. Periodically, the girl would reach up and tuck the errant lock behind her ear. But the wind always won out and whipped it free again.

"You're an idiot." K-mart said abruptly, her eyes still locked on the never-changing landscape.

Claire felt her brow furrow and her grip on the steering wheel tighten. "What?"

"You're an idiot." K-mart did look at her that time, with a stoic expression that defiant eyes betrayed.

"I heard you," Claire snapped, irritably. "Where did that come from?" K-mart usually lacked the usual sullen surliness that seemed to plague most adolescents. Unlike most teenagers Claire had dealt with, the girl revered more than resented her elders, idolized them even. She always felt a little shaky, knowing how the teenager looked up to her, like a very fragile vase perched too precariously on a wobbly pedestal. For her, the abrupt shift in attitude was unheard of.

"Alice loves you," K-mart said, and it sounded more like an accusation than a declaration.

Blood flushed her face and neck, making her feel hotter than she already was. Clenching her jaw, Claire refused to respond and kept her eyes on the road ahead.

"And you love her," K-mart persisted.

While she could hardly deny the truth of the statements, she was surprised that the teenager was quite so perceptive. Her… affection for the brooding older woman was a realization she had long since come to and even admitted to herself. That her feelings were requited was no revelation either. But the decision not to act on them was a careful, deliberate one, and Claire did not appreciate K-mart's interference in something already difficult and confusing.

All the same, Claire swallowed the rising bile of anger in her throat and forced gentleness into her tone. "Look, K—"

"Don't patronize me, Claire. Because nothing you can say will convince me that you're not an idiot," K-mart cut her off, and Claire glimpsed over at her to see her green eyes narrow. "And you saying "but you're too young to understand" or anything like that is bullshit. I might be young, but I'm not a child. No matter how old I am. All I know is, you have a chance, that no one else does that I know of right now, to escape _this_," The teenager held her arms our wide as if her gesture could encompass the whole world. "And you insist on being an idiot."

"If you haven't noticed, I'm a little too busy to fucking escape right now." Claire shot back angrily and slammed down the flat of her palm against the wheel. "Infection. Starvation. Disease. Death. Twenty-odd people depending on me to get them through the next week, fuck, the next day. Remember that? Not a lot of time for escaping."

But K-mart wasn't convinced, and she snorted. "Is it wrong for a prisoner to dream of escape? Shouldn't he try to escape the confines, the walls of his prison?"

Claire wanted to scream at the girl, to scream at everything until her lungs ached and burned, until her throat was raw, and her voice rasped. Her nails dug painfully into the vinyl of the steering wheel, and she bit on the inside of her cheek until she tasted iron. The pain gave her focus, gave her clarity. "And what happens when the prisoner escapes, only to be captured and thrown back into his cell? What then?"

K-mart leaned back in her seat and pulled her knees back up to her chest, her voice quiet now, no longer quite as angry despite the glare she still coolly leveled at the older woman. "Then at least he knew freedom and respite. If just for a little while."

"You don't understand, K-mart," Claire shook her head, determined, but the girl ignored her and averted her gaze back out the window.

Neither of them spoke the rest of the drive that day, and when they made camp for the night, she slept in the fuel truck with Carlos and Alice, leaving the convoy leader alone in the Hummer. And as hot as the day had been, the night was scorching cold.

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><p><strong>A short chapter. Feedback is appreciated, but more appreciated is y'alls support. I've been amazed at how many people enjoy this story, and I'm honored that I can entertain y'all.<strong>


	9. Chapter Ninth

**Updates have been sporadic at best, and for that I apologize. My father passed a couple weeks ago and so I haven't been in the mindset of writing.**

**However, I am so grateful for the feedback and support I have received lately. It really does help when things are decidedly shitty. So, thank all of you who have stuck with me through this story.**

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><p>Where did the simple stop and the complicated begin?<p>

Claire had been alone with her thoughts the entire night and next day. After the only disagreement she could ever remember having with the teenager, K-mart had slept in the fuel truck with Carlos and Alice, rode with them the next day. It meant another long, dusty day alone in the Hummer, with the occasional crackle of radio chatter from the other vehicles in the convoy. By dusk, they estimated they were no more than a few hours from their destination. But the last thing Claire wanted to do was roll into Fort Lewis in the dark, without knowing what to expect.

They would camp for the night and make it onto the military installation by midday tomorrow. That would leave them plenty of daylight to scout the area for any Infected before committing to any risk.

As they had traveled over the course of the day, the desert seemed to retreat. It was by no means forest, but neither was it quite the rolling dunes of dusky orange sand and barren rock either. Small, ragged bushes had cropped up along with trees. Not the hardy, broadleafed trees of Before, but scraggly little things. The landscape was changing gradually, so slowly that Claire had not truly noticed until after they had made camp, after she had made her rounds to each of the vehicles in the convoy.

Now that she was alone, she noticed the little shoots of gray green at her feet as she sat in front of her meager fire. She noticed the breeze, how it tasted of… rain, she realized. There was humidity here. Maybe not much, but more than she could ever remember feeling in the past six years. The further north they traveled, the more things seemed to shift. Perhaps by the time they reached Alaska, it would be the verdant paradise she had seen in her dreams.

Or perhaps it would only be another soul-crushing disappointment, with nothing but the chalk of old bones under her feet and sand and ash as far as they eye could see. Perhaps there was nowhere left that the Infection had not reached.

Across the camp, Carlos's deep laugh caused Claire to glance up abruptly. Their fire was far enough away that she could not hear what Carlos and Alice and K-mart were saying, but close enough that she could see the expressions on each of their faces. Alice was smiling, shyly, tentatively as both K-mart and Carlos laughed until they wheezed for breath.

That smile. The sight of it was too much for Claire to bear, and she quickly averted her eyes back down to the fire. She willed herself to concentrate on the erratic dance of the flames, the crackle of wood as it splintered into orange white coals. She tried to listen to the breeze, to the sound of it rustling through the bushes instead of howling down the slopes of dunes.

"Hey." K-mart said softly, startling Claire from her reverie. Without waiting for an invitation or answer, the teenager plopped down next to Claire, folding her legs in front of her.

"Hey," Claire replied. They were the first words they had spoken to one another in nearly two days, since their argument. "Still think I'm an idiot?"

"Definitely." K-mart responded without hesitation, but a small smile worked its way onto her lips. "But I wanted to apologize."

Claire smiled wryly and threw her arm around the younger woman's shoulders, giving her a tight squeeze. "You don't have to. I'm pretty sure you're right."

"Yeah, but… I talked to Alice. She wasn't happy. And she's right too."

Her heart leapt at the mention of the other woman, and Claire forced herself to sound casual when she asked, "Oh? What did she say?"

K-mart shrugged and leaned into Claire, resting her head on her shoulder. "That it wasn't my business. That is was your decision, and no one could make it for you. That you didn't need someone to tell you what to do." She sniffed and wiped her nose on the sleeve of her jacket. "Only… you know… she said it in Alice-speak—which means she just kind of frowned and said 'K, Claire can decide what she wants for herself.'" She sobered and imitated the older woman with startling accuracy, nailing her clipped tone and emotionless expression.

Despite herself, Claire laughed. "That does sound like her."

K-mart grinned and shrugged again, tossing a twig into the fire. "Well, you're both idiots. But it's none of my business. And I'm sorry."

"You know what my biggest fear is?"

"What?" K-mart's brow furrowed and she turned her face towards Claire, as if bewildered that anything could frighten their leader, her idol.

"That all there is left is Infection. That no matter what we go or do, it will follow us until we just… accept it. Until we all just become… numb to it, accept it." The convoy leader faltered, swallowed hard to regain her composure. "What if this all that is left? Running and fighting and dying? We're trapped by circumstance, caged in. I'm afraid of forgetting we were once more than this."

The two women sat in silence, with nothing but the hiss of the fire and the occasional chatter of other survivors to break the quiet. K-mart wordlessly sought out Claire's hand and squeezed it. "We are more than this." Without letting go of her hand, she gestured vaguely to indicate their surroundings, the Infection, the world. "We're a family. We're alive because of you."

"Not all of us."

"No, but a lot of us. I didn't have anyone when you found me. My mom and dad and brothers were all killed. I was alone, and would have been dead too if it weren't for you and Carlos and Mikey and all." Claire had only heard the girl mention her family, her biological family, two or three times since they had found her in the parking lot of her namesake store. But then, no one ever spoke of their lives Before, why should she be any different. "We'd all be dead or alone, or just alone if you didn't bring us together.

"Mikey died, but he died knowing that we would bury him and remember him." K-mart sniffled again, but this time wiped her eyes. "And if I die… then I know you'll remember me. That I won't just be another nameless body rotting on the side of the road."

The image of the teenager, lifeless and pale struck Claire like a mallet. "I will _never_ let that happen, K, never." Claire said emphatically, her jaw clenched with conviction. K-mart was like a kid sister, like a daughter to her. She would rather die herself than allow any harm to come to the girl.

"That's what I mean, Claire." K-mart smiled sadly, old enough to know that while Claire would rather die than let harm befall her, that some things were just out of her control. "You're like my mom. So we already are more than just running and fighting and stuff. We're more because none of us are alone. You don't have to be alone."

Claire pulled her close, and the teenager snuggled into her under her arm. It was an awkward position while seated, but K-mart showed no signs of shifting or moving, content to rest her head against Claire's chest and be held, be close.

Stroking her back, Claire finally ended the comfortable lapse in conversation. "When did you grow up?"

She felt rather than saw K-mart grin. "When you weren't looking."

Across the line of vehicles, of dimly flickering fires, Claire gazed into the night, her eyes searching for Alice. The older woman sat across from the fire she and Carlos shared, her hands extended, palms towards the warmth of the flames that reflected in her ice blue eyes, dancing. Her hood was pulled back from her face, her hair still cut in that unruly shag that was just a little longer now.

Their eyes connected, even across the distance, and this time Claire didn't look away. Alice smiled, the same way she had when Claire had fixed the collar of her jacket. An open, honest smile that robbed Claire of her breath and broke her heart all in the same moment. Involuntary tears stung her eyes, blurring her vision, but when she blinked them back, Alice had already looked away and the smile had been replaced with somber pensiveness. The abrupt change only caused the tears to well up in her eyes again, and this time no amount of blinking could keep them at bay. All of the sudden, Claire felt broken again, as if what she wanted to reach out and touch and been cast irretrievably out of her grasp.

K-mart shift, buried her face deeper against Claire's chest, half asleep. Her voice was no more than a barely discernible mumble, stifled by sleep and the fabric of Claire's shirt. "I wouldn't mind having two moms, you know."

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><p><strong>And there you have it. We're slowly moving in the right direction. If only Claire wouldn't be such a stubborn, angsty ass about everything.<strong>

**Leave some feedback, y'all! It makes me all warm and fuzzy and junk!**


	10. Chapter Tenth

**I'm ready to get this show on the road. Our girls have been through so much. So I've been working on this lovely chapter. Hope you all enjoy. **

**And please, please, please leave some feedback. I need my fix. I'm not above begging. I need the good stuff, y'all. I swear I can quit whenever I want, I just don't want to. Please help me get my fix.**

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><p>"There is no wall."<p>

"No."

"No actual gate. No drawbridge. No moat."

"No."

"There is barely even a fence."

"Six years is hell on chain link and barbed wire."

"You couldn't keep a pack of children out of here, much less an Infected horde," Claire grumbled in disbelief. She had never seen a real military fort before. They had come across the odd National Guard facilities that were little more than clusters of buildings, but she had expected an honest military fort to be… grander, more imposing. At the very least a little more fort-like.

As it stood currently, all she could see was the road leading into the base, flanked by crumbling guard shacks and long chain-link fences topped with coils of barbed wire that ran in opposite directions. The road itself was blocked by aged orange barriers, the kind used in road construction. The only things marking this nondescript location as military were the wooden sign proudly welcoming them to United States Army Fort Lewis, and smaller signs declaring that photo identification was required for entrance and every vehicle entering the fort was subject to search.

"Most bases were built when the country didn't face any sort of domestic threat," Carlos explained with the patient amusement of someone accustomed to most people's ignorance of the military. While he wasn't technically military, Umbrella invested a great deal in their operatives, including training on par and often with American military forces.

Claire scoffed and lifted her binoculars back up to their eyes, carefully scanning for any side of the Infected, any hit of movement. "Maybe. But I thought national security would merit something a bit stronger barbed wire."

"The dead hadn't started walking when they built Fort Lewis," Alice said dryly from her perch atop the Hummer's hood. She rarely used binoculars, as if she never needed them to see regardless of distance. Instead, she had nimbly climbed on top of the Hummer and stood, shielding her eyes with her hand. "Walls weren't necessary. And, it's concertina wire. Not barbed wire." Her words were neutral, but as she leapt to the ground, Claire suspected that there was more shifting under her calm exterior.

"Barbed wire will just snag your clothing, scratch you up. At worst, a few puncture wounds," Carlos explained, packing his pair of binoculars safely in their carrying pouch. "Concertina wire is just a coiled razor blade. It won't snag. It'll just slice through just about anything. Try and crawl through it or over it, it'll shred you to ribbons. It will slice you clear down to your femoral artery and you'll bleed out in five minutes."

Blinking appreciatively, Claire leaned into the Hummer and placed her binoculars in her glove box. K-mart whistled lowly and handed the redhead her fingerless leather gloves and ball cap.

"Be glad all we have to do is walk in the front door." Alice took a long swig from her canteen without sparing a glance for any of the other lieutenants.

K-mart arched a brow at Claire, who shrugged and finished pulling on her gloves. Alice had been particularly detached since they had arrived just outside the gates of their destination. Her exact mood was hard to gauge on a good day, let alone one when she seemed even more closed off than usual. She was more terse than usual, each word almost accusatory in its brevity. But then, Claire couldn't be sure this was as recent a development as she thought. She had scarcely spoken with Alice in days.

Not since the night she had finally broken. Not since she had wept in the comfort of Alice's arms, felt the fragile safety of her embrace. Not since Alice had held her until she had fallen into a fitful sleep, held her through the dreams that had awakened her. Not since Claire had left the warmth, the solace, the escape of accepting the respite Alice had offered her. Not since suffering the excruciating shame and loneliness of spending the rest of the night masturbating in an abandoned gas station office.

Her face burned at the memories, and Claire quickly fumbled for the cap of her own canteen to conceal her reaction. Maybe she should talk to the other woman. After they were finished in Fort Lewis, once they were fueled up, had all the supplies on the trucks, then… then they would talk.

"Let's mount up," Claire slid behind the steering wheel of her Hummer. "Alice, Carlos, you think you guys can move those barriers out of the way and bring up the rear?"

"Not a problem, boss." Carlos touched two fingers to his brow in a mock salute and sauntered back towards the fuel truck. Alice gave a half nod of acknowledgment and followed him without making eye contact.

The rest of the fort was as dismal and colorless as the entrance, only this time, it seemed designed that way. All the buildings were the same shade of tan brick and brown tin roof. Each bore a small brown placard with white numbers and was additionally marked by matching brown signs designating the barber shop, the middle school, the gym, headquarters battalion. The roads were simple two-lane thoroughfares.

No building was easily distinguishable from the other, some were larger or smaller than others. Some were annexed to large gravel parking lots full of Humvees and deuce and a halfs and even a few tanks. "The PX should be on the right, just after this intersection." Alice's voice crackled over the radio.

"Yup." K-mart answered promptly. "We see it. Just up ahead, the giant building with the giant parking lot."

"Roger."

"Pulling off now." Claire said, to no one in particular. The parking lot was mostly empty. There were a few cars, parked with no concern to parking lines or order. As they pulled up to the front, Claire noted it was actually two buildings connected, one being the PX and the other being marked "Commissary."

"Hand me the shotgun."

K-mart half-climbed into the backseat, reached for Claire's shotgun, handed it to her. "Let me come this time?"

Hesitating midway through the inspection of her weapon, Claire bit her lower lip. K-mart wasn't a child anymore, but… nor was she that old either, barely old enough to drive. But how many half-sized Infected had they come across in the past six years? Infection didn't care how old the victim was. Finishing her inspection of the weapon, she handed it to the teenager. "Do not be a hero, K, or so help me…"

"I won't." K-mart assured her and all but leapt from the Hummer with the shotgun cradled in her arms.

Alice approached with a brow arched at the girl and clapped her on the shoulder with a half nod of approval. "Don't shoot unless they're close enough to smell them."

"Everyone stay in the trucks until we give the all-clear." Claire shouted over her shoulder at the remainder of the convoy and fell in beside Alice. It felt a little uncomfortable without the bulk of the shotgun against her shoulder even if she still had both her pistols. "Seems quiet."

Without a reply, Alice slinked up to length of doors like a cat investigating a curious object. They were glass doors, but someone had pulled down the aluminum roll doors used when closing for the night, making it impossible to see inside. Placing her hand on the glass, the older woman immediately shrank into herself. It was if Claire could physically see Alice leave her body, disappearing to leave an empty, fleshy shell behind. And suddenly she was back.

"Get back!" She barked, stumbling away.

The aluminum doors rippled like paper as the weight of a hundred, a thousand corpses thundered against it and collided with the glass. It was the sound of a mallet thudding against raw meat that echoed in the empty lot, a sickeningly wet sound. It was then she noticed the heavy chains wound around each set of double-doors' handles. Chained and locked from the outside. Claire instinctively pushed K-mart behind her. "Get in the Hummer." She commanded, but her voice was little more than a whisper. "Go."

"Move," Alice was right behind Claire, her hand on her back, propelling her forward. But instead of pushing her into the driver's seat, she wheeled her around and threw open the back door of the Hummer in one fluid motion, all but tossing the other woman into the back seat. The movement felt surprisingly effortless for Alice, and Claire had a brief moment to be impressed before she roughly collided into the cracked canvas of the seat.

The awe at the woman's physical prowess quickly wore off and was abruptly replaced by a seething bubble of anger. How dare Alice manhandle her like… like a child? This was her convoy, and Alice had no right to just toss her around whenever the mood suited her. She felt her face burn; her ears blistering. Before the convoy leader could snap back with irritation, Alice leveled a gaze of pure ice at her over the center console, and the anger cooled to a lump of solid lead in her belly. "I know the way. We can't waste time now."

"We. Are. Going. To. Talk." Claire said tightly, hedging the growl out of her voice as she pushed herself up so that she was sitting instead of sprawled.

Snorting, Alice unceremoniously shifted the Hummer into drive, an insufferable smirk plastered across her face as the vehicle lurched forward. "First time for everything."

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><p><strong>Oh snap. Shit's gonna get real.<strong>

**The more feedback, the more real it gets. For real. True story.**


	11. Chapter Eleventh

**Told y'all I was tired of screwing around. I'm on a roll. As always, all mistakes are mine. And there are probably a few typos, and I shall fix them as I see them. But the muse is pestering the shit out of me.**

**Feed me! I needs mah feedback!**

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><p>Fueling the trucks was going to take much longer than Claire was comfortable with. There were only two pumps at the fueling station, and they wasted precious time pushing an abandoned Humvee out of the way. The fuel truck had its own pump, but finding the underground well to pump out the gasoline wasted another fifteen minutes. Claire organized everyone so that a perimeter was established around the vehicles as they fueled while Alice and Carlos found the well and set the truck up.<p>

"The Infected always take the most direct route. A straight line." Claire instructed K-mart, pointing in the direction of the PX, several miles away. "So if they're coming from the PX, they'll come from right there. But you should sweep constantly. There could be others." The teenager followed her finger with the binoculars, nodding confidently. This was the first time Claire had given her any responsibility, and she was eager to please.

"Right. And once I see them, don't worry about being quiet because they already know we're here." K-mart lowered the binoculars and adjusted the unfamiliar weight of the rifle slung over her shoulder. Claire had traded weapons with the girl, taking her shotgun back in exchange for the rifle and a quick lesson on its use. "I've got it."

"Good. I'll be back in a few minutes."

The PX had held the unfortunate non-survivors of Fort Lewis for six years. But once the Infected sensed the living, their primitive drive kicked in and nothing short of a bullet in the head or complete decapitation would stop their relentless push for flesh. They would push and push against the doors, crushing their fellows into a mash of decomposed fleshy pulp, but they'd keep pushing. The glass and metal would yield before the horde would. It was just a matter of time.

Hopefully by the time they broke free, they would already be fueled and loaded up. "How long?" Claire halted in front of the well where Carlos and Alice were kneeling, feeding the truck's hose deep underground.

"An hour. Maybe less." Carlos relinquished his hold on the hose. "You think the doors will hold?"

"At least until we're fueled. Probably." Alice straightened and dusted her hands on her knees.

"We need to talk."

Alice raised both eyebrows at Carlos who held his hands up in surrender, declining to involve himself. The former Umbrella operative was smart enough to know which battles to pick. This was not something he wanted to involve himself in. Sighing resignedly, she extended a hand in the direction of a small building, most likely an office for the fuel station.

Claire stalked towards the office, her mind was still tumbling with anger. She felt more than heard Alice behind her, heard the soft click of the door shutting behind them. It in fact, was an office. Sparsely furnished with only a desk and a few chairs, but well lit by the wide windows and afternoon daylight streaming through. It was dusty, however, and rubbed the tickle of a sneeze from her nose before turning to face the other woman.

"Don't ever. Ever. Touch me like that again," Claire kept her voice even but jabbed her finger at Alice for effect.

But Alice just nodded, her expression completely unresponsive. Which only served as fuel for Claire's anger.

"Good. Glad we had this talk."

"Is that all?" Alice reached for the door knob.

As much as Claire loved, no craved, Alice's smile, she could not stand the countenance of unflappable calm that she always wore. Even more so than that incorrigible smirk, the stoicism infuriated her. She expected some reaction, any reaction from the older woman, and when she didn't get one, it made her even angrier. Acting as if every word was an irritation to her, then throwing her into the Hummer like she was a doll, and now she had the nerve to not respond at all, to shrug off Claire's confrontation as if it were placating a child throwing a tantrum?

She wouldn't let Alice just walk away this time, as if Claire was the one being unreasonable. Her hand shot out and she grabbed Alice's wrist, yanking it away from the door.

Claire had seen Alice fight a dozen times, had seen her move. But being on the receiving end of her raw, feral power was quite a different experience. Like a spring coiled too tightly, she snapped forward in burst of motion, as if Claire's touch had been the trigger to release all of her pent up energy. Each motion bled into the other, as if it had been rehearsed. Alice pried Claire's hand from her wrist effortlessly, using the momentum of Claire trying to yank her hand backwards to spin her around, placing her between Alice and the door. In the same movement, she slammed her against the door, pinning her with her body.

It was as if a placid lake had blown into a howling Arctic nautical storm in a single breath, and Claire had not even felt the crack of her shoulders against the solid wooden door. She was pinned more by the savage ferocity flashing in Alice's eyes than the weight or strength of her body. Alice expelled a sharp breath, but didn't seem winded by the sudden burst of exertion.

"What—Alice, let go." Claire breathed and wriggled, trying to squirm free. But there was no escaping the older woman's grasp. She could feel the ridge of each fingerprint of Alice's fingers wrapped around each wrist pinning her to the door, the rapid thud of her heart against her chest matched Claire's own pulse. Her breath came in rapid pants that cooled on Claire's neck. "Alice—"

But she didn't respond. Like she had when she touched the door of the PX, she detached, something else seemed to take over, replaced by something feral. The only movement was her breath, as if she had frozen in place pressed against Claire, as if there was an inner turmoil warring for control.

Every moment Claire spent pinned against the door, she felt her own inner strength weaken. Despite herself, she struggled to free herself just to feel Alice tighten her grasp. "Alice," This time it was a plea and Claire squeezed her eyes shut to break eye contact, but that only made it worse. Her breath began to quicken, and sweat broke out on her shoulders and ran down her flanks, cooling. Now she was solely focused on feeling the hardened female strength against her, the scent of sweat and distinct Alice-ness. The heady realization that no matter how earnestly she struggled, that Alice was in utter, indisputable control.

"Stop, please, Alice," Claire opened her eyes and tried to reach the other woman, to break through the trance. "Alice, please…" The words sounded thin and unconvincing even to her, but Alice blinked once suddenly returned to herself, but made no other outward signs of moving. "Alice…"

In movement barely perceptible, the older woman began to lean forward, but Claire shook her head and squirmed but immediately halted as she felt the friction of fabric against her breasts.

"Alice—" She entreated again, her voice cracking. Why was she making this so hard? Her will was on the verge of crumbling. Claire wanted this, she needed it. She wanted to yield herself to Alice's lips, to her hands, to whatever she wanted. She needed whatever Alice would give her, no matter what it was. If Alice needed to throw her down, pin her to the wall, take her, Claire needed to surrender to her will. She needed her comfort, her love, even if it was rough, even if it left her sore. Because in the end, she knew that Alice would mend her, kiss away every hurt, every wound, every scar. But she could not let it happen. "Please… we can't. We can't do this."

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><p><strong>Every time you read this story and don't leave feedback, Santa kills an elf. Please, keep the elves alive. ;-)<strong>


	12. Chapter Twelfth

**Sooooo… in the spirit of the holiday season, I've decided to be a bitch and mix things up. So… Merry Christmas and junk!**

**Oh, and by the way up until this point, at least 15 elves have been saved. I know we can do better. Santa is a sick fuck. So save them elves.**

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><p>"You're right." Alice relinquished her grip on Claire's wrist, backpedaling away from Claire as if she was startled, as if she had suddenly discovered she had been holding a live viper.<p>

Claire gasped at the abrupt loss of contact. Her wrists felt scalded without Alice holding them. Her body felt chilled without the heat of the other woman pressed against her. The air felt disturbingly still without her breath on her neck, her cheek. The shift left Claire dizzy. It was as if she had spun in circles until her equilibrium was completely upended. There was no up or down, no point to focus on to recapture her balance.

Alice had been there, so close. And then she wasn't. Her mind wouldn't… couldn't settle. Her thoughts could not catch up to what was in the present, too hinged on the past, on the feeling of closeness she had and then lost.

"We can't—I can't—I…" She shook her head as if trying to clear it of an appalling thought, to shake off a terrifying sight. Her blue eyes settled on Claire's feet without really seeing them.

"What?" The fog began to dissipate and through it, Claire could see something was wrong. It was the first and only time Claire had ever seen the older woman anything close to shaken. Her mouth was set in a grim line, her eyes wide and haunted. If she did not know Alice so well, if she had not spent so long agonizing over every expression, every quirk, every gesture that she made, Claire might have thought Alice was afraid.

"You're right." Alice straightened, her face tightening back into the impenetrable mask. "I'm too dangerous. It's too dangerous. I'll find a Humvee, lead the convoy to the supply warehouse and make sure you get on the road to Alaska safely." She averted her eyes back down at her feet. "And then I'll leave." The last bit came out as barely a whisper.

"Leave?" Claire felt panic swell like a wave within her, swelling until it crested in a rip tide of current, of fear and devastation. Not having Alice was barely tolerable, so desperately close yet knowing she could never succumb to the temptation, that it would be worse for them if she did. It was killing Claire. But that was preferable to not having her at all, to not knowing she was safely asleep in the back of the Hummer or in the fuel truck, that she was never farther than few car-lengths away. The mere notion of waking up and knowing that Alice was no longer with them, that she was far away, alone or dead, not knowing if the Infection had claimed her too. She couldn't survive that. "You can't go. You can't leave us. We need you."

But Alice shook her head vehemently and began to pace, and some of that feral energy that Claire adored about her, returned. "I'm not safe. I'm too dangerous."

"None of us are safe anymore, Alice." Claire extended her hand helplessly, reaching out but unable to close the distance between them. "You're not dangerous. All you have ever done is protect me. Us."

"I'm dangerous."

"You are not."

"I am! Do you not remember the wall of flame, the burning crows?" Alice said through clenched teeth. "You told me yourself that the convoy was scared of me, scared of what I could. And they were right to be scared."

With a pang, Claire remembered her first confrontation with Alice, before, when she had been a stranger. When Claire had not trusted her. "A wall of fire could be handy every once and awhile," Claire joked weakly. "I know it's not exactly normal, and I can see why it would make you uneasy, but Alice… you've never hurt anyone with it."

"It's not normal. I'm not normal." Alice's pacing only intensified. She could only take four or five steps in the small office before whirling to stalk in the other direction. "Umbrella did something to me. I'm not… human."

It was no particular surprise that Umbrella had some hand in the development of Alice's unusual abilities. Carlos had filled her in on all the events of Raccoon City, of how she had been a security operative and then test subject for Umbrella, of how he had helped break her out of the Umbrella test facility, of how she had been even more different, of how she had disappeared when Angela Ashford had been killed.

But the concerns she had when Alice had initially joined their group had faded. She knew Alice now, knew here well enough to trust her with her own life, with the lives of everyone in her convoy, knew her well enough to know they were much safer than they had been without her. "I know…" Claire began and put herself in between Alice and the path she was pacing, forcing her to stop. "I know it has to be scary. It would terrify me. But you are human, just stronger and faster and… with the psionic stuff. But I know you'd never hurt anyone. You couldn't."

"I did." Alice said quietly. "I killed Angie. I couldn't stop. I couldn't control it. Umbrella took control of me. I was like a puppet and they pulled the strings. I'm like… I'm like an animal. I can sense the Infected, react on instinct. Sometimes I react without even realizing it. What if it happens again? I can't take that risk. I have to go." She pushed past Claire as if ending the conversation.

The convoy leader grabbed her wrist again, only moderately afraid of receiving the same reaction as before. "Alice! I don't care!" She shouted before it even had registered as truth. Whatever Alice had done, whatever she was capable of, she was not capable of murdering a child, no matter what. This was Umbrella's fault, not hers. They were to blame for all the deaths, for all the Infection. Even if Alice had pulled the trigger, she could not have done so if she was capable of resisting. But Umbrella was gone now. No one had seen or heard any sign of the company in years. Hopefully, they fell victim to the same Infection that had destroyed the world. Whatever their fate, they were no longer pulling the strings.

Alice barely reacted to Claire's touch this time. She stopped and almost shyly raised her eyes to Claire's. "It's safer this way." Gently, almost delicately, she pulled her wrist away and turned for the door again.

Claire watched Alice go and felt her heart break simultaneously. She pressed the heels of her palms against her eyes as if she could rub the sting of tears away. This wasn't what she wanted. She needed Alice, needed to know she was just a shout away. She had tried to protect them both by resisting her feelings, by closing herself off. The notion of reaching Alaska, of finding safety, felt hollow and pointless.

It felt as if her lungs were collapsing on her heart, crushing her chest from the inside. The Infection had robbed the world of everything decent and good in the world. It had tainted the world with its fetid stink. What was the point of going on at all without the one piece of goodness left to her?

Claire jogged after Alice, heedless of the sting of fresh tears on her face. "Alice!" But the older woman had only made it halfway across the parking lot to the fuel truck. She slowed to a trot several feet behind her. "I don't want to be safe if it's without you."

"Don't make this harder than it already is, Claire. Please." Alice refused to look at her, even as Claire fell into step beside her. "This is best for everyone."

"It's not what is best for me!" Claire pleaded, exasperated. Of all the times for Alice's damn stubborn streak to rear its head… Why couldn't Alice just hear what she was saying, why couldn't she just read between the damn lines? "For fuck's sake… Alice! Alice…" But Alice wouldn't slow, wouldn't stop, wouldn't even look at her or acknowledge her words were having any impact whatsoever. Claire jerked her fingers roughly through her hair, frustrated beyond measure. "I love you, you idiot!"

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><p><strong>Again, thank all of you for your support. Y'all are the wind beneath my wings.<strong>

**And the savior of my elves. Do you want the senseless slaughter of elves on your conscience? If not, leave some feedback.**


	13. Chapter Thirteenth

**I am the crappiest updater in all of updater-dom. I'm sorry. Thank all of y'all who have stuck with this story. I swear on my lucky undies that I will finish this fic one of these damn days. I swear. **

**Y'all have my eternal gratitude for being so patient with me. And I apologize if this is rough... still getting back into the swing of writing.**

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><p>"I know." Alice had finally halted, and when Claire followed suit, she faced the other woman.<p>

"You know?" Claire threw up her hands in disbelief. She had finally said it. Those three tiny words that had been hanging between them for weeks, unspoken. It was a line of tension between them, stretched taut nearly to the point of breaking, and she had finally let go. And the best that Alice could counter with was that she already knew? Unbelievable. Claire should have known that she would have an infuriating response. "Is that the best you can do?"

"You were right." Alice shrugged and suddenly found the cracked asphalt beneath her feet extremely interesting. It always amazed Claire how Alice could transition so abruptly. Most of the time, she was a confident, unstoppable force, unwavering and solid. But when confronted with the complication of emotion, became like a cornered wild animal, skittish and awkward. Timidly, she ventured a glance at Claire. "What we want, what we _both_ feel, is dangerous."

Snorting in disbelief, Claire shook her head. "I can't fucking believe this!" The final word came as shout, and she planted her hands on her hips, trying to ignore the scrutinizing gazes that were probably cast in their direction. Her face burned. She squeezed her eyes shut and prepared to wave K-mart off at the sound of rapidly approaching footfalls.

"What's wrong?" The teenager nearly skidded to a halt next to the two women facing off. She had unslung her rifle and held it with the muzzle down, the stock against her shoulder. In other circumstances, it might have been comical. The rifle was cartoonishly large for the slight girl.

Claire wanted to dismiss K-mart, to tell her that this was between her and Alice and therefore not her business. Instead, she blurted. "Alice wants to leave."

"_What?_" K-mart demanded, snapping her gaze towards Alice. "You can't leave. Why would you do that? We need you. Why now?" Her eyes returned to Claire, suspiciously.

"It's just safer…" Alice almost-whispered through clenched teeth, refusing to look at either Claire or K-mart. "If I'm not around people."

K-mart studied Alice and Claire for a moment, as if trying to puzzle out the truth of what had transpired between them. Claire attempted to steady and slow her breathing, and avoid K-mart's scrutiny by deliberately avoiding her gaze. Which was evidently answer enough for the teenager.

"You've got to be kidding me…" She muttered under her breath. "I can't believe you two are doing this now!" She slung her rifle back over her shoulder. "There is a horde of soldier-zombies probably heading this way, and you two are fighting about this, _now_? How old are you two? Fourteen?"

"K-mart…" Alice began.

"No! We have fifteen minutes until that damn truck is finished fueling and then we have got to get out of here. So that means we have fifteen minutes to settle this," K-mart held out her hand, palm facing Claire as she began to open her mouth. "You're both idiots."

"That isn't fair," Claire interrupted, her hands balling into clenched fists. She was angry enough dealing with the sudden turn of the tables Alice had pulled on her. Having K-mart scolding and mediating was enough to make her flush as red as her hair.

"Fair is a place where you ride rides and win prizes and has nothing to do with life." K-mart snapped. "Pot, meet Kettle." Her tone abruptly shifted and suddenly she was cordially introducing the two women, as if for the first time. "You both love each other. There. I said it. It's not a secret. Everyone knows. Everyone is also fucking baffled why the hell you two don't get over yourselves and just… accept it."

"The problem isn't admitting it, K." Alice said quietly, raising her eyes but as soon as they made contact with Claire's, she immediately dropped her gaze to her feet again. "All I have done is respect Claire's decisions. Which were correct. It is safer this way. For everyone."

Even as Alice repeated herself, Claire could not, would not believe her. Instead, ashamed, she turned her attention to K-mart who sighed her exasperation, as if profoundly disappointed. The teenager slumped, as if defeated, and she glimpsed over to the tanker truck. "You have ten minutes." She said, leaving a pleading "_fix this_," unspoken as she returned to her post.

"I'm not afraid of death or dying, Alice." Claire whispered once they were alone. Tentatively, as if the slight movement might cause the other woman to bolt away, she stepped forward, closing the gap between them. Then, as if she were reaching for something so delicate it might shatter at the slightest touch, she grazed Alice's hand with her fingers.

Surprisingly, Alice let her hand be taken in Claire's, allowed her to fold in between her hands and pull it close to her, close to her chest, to her heart, where she held it. "What are you afraid of?" Alice asked finally, ice blue eyes finally lifting to look at her.

Claire felt her chest flutter as she felt those eyes on her, as if this was the first time Alice had ever looked at her. She felt herself blush at the intensity of her gaze, as if those eyes could see through her to every word of unspoken truth that Claire had kept bottled inside, secreted away. "To live, trapped by the Infection, surviving for nothing but another day of fighting and running until I've forgotten everything that once made this…" Her voice broke on the words, but she pressed on. "…life worth living. To live without you."

With her free hand, Alice reached up and cupped her cheek, wiping away an errant tear with her thumb. Their foreheads met, their faces close enough that Claire felt the other woman's breath on her cheek. Claire squeezed her eyes shut, felt more tears slip down her cheeks. In the past, this close contact would have sent her pedaling backwards, away. But now, she felt her chest ache at the closeness, her heart breaking that there might ever be a moment when Alice wasn't this close, a time whenever she didn't hold her hand over heart.

"I love you, Claire Redfield." Alice whispered, and she shifted just slightly. For a terrifying moment, she was sure Alice was still determined to leave, to leave _her_. That finally confessing their feelings had been a farewell speech. The thought that Alice might leave her, even now, was unbearable, inconceivable. Panicked, Claire began to reach for her, to grasp for her, to stop her from pulling away, but she halted as she felt cool lips on her forehead. "We will find a way. Together." The words were whispered against her brow, and Claire wanted to weep with relief, with shame, with love.

Every thought and emotion since she had met Alice collided all at once. She had struggled for so long to stifle any feeling towards the other woman, to maintain her rigid composure. But her once steadfast resolve had cracked, and through the cracks flooded all the emotion she tried so hard not to feel. Love, she felt it in Alice's touch, her strong hand still on her cheek. Fear, sharp and metallic in the back of her mouth, fear of losing the other woman that was much more real now that the words had been spoken aloud. Safety and comfort, in the steady pulse in the wrist underneath her fingertips. Guilt, that tightened like a clenched fist in her chest that she had ever resisted this in the first place, that she had ever pushed Alice away. Relief. It rendered her helpless to do anything but cling to her lover's hand, to be held, and let the tears slip past her lashes.

"I love you," Claire finally said. "I'm sorry… I'm sorry for—"

"Being an idiot?"

Claire felt rather than saw Alice's smirk against her brow, that insufferable smirk of hers. It caused a swell of affection to sweep over her like a warm tide. "Yes. For being an idiot."

"We're both idiots. We deserve each other."

In that moment, the only thing that could have forced the two women apart was K-mart's warning shout.

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><p><strong>But it isn't over yet! Can't make it too easy. As always, thank you, my darling readers. I adore you guys for being so wonderful and supportive. I promise that I won't write anything else until I finish this and LfS. <strong>

**Oh. And feedback is lusted for.**


	14. Chapter Fourteenth

**A little bit of a shorter chapter than usual, but not by much. I just felt that I needed some kind of transitional chapter in between what I have written so far and the shit that is about to hit the metaphorical fan. Consider this the peach sorbet served in between courses to cleanse your palate. **

**This story has become somewhat of my favorite project, so thank each and everyone of you for encouraging me to continue with it and change it from a dalliance to something that I am proud of.**

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><p>Claire felt as though she had forgotten something. There was a sense of unease, of dread that stemmed not from approaching clotted smudge on the horizon, but of something deeper. She thought back to the moment she and Alice had shared and felt… pained, as if her confession wasn't enough, as if Alice's reassurances weren't enough. Should she have said more, done more to prove to Alice the depth of her feelings? Had there been something she had forgotten to tell her?<p>

The source of her uncertainty was puzzling, like a word on the tip of her tongue that she could not manage to remember. She loved Alice, and Alice loved her. That much she knew was certain, but would that be enough? Was that enough, considering what they faced on a daily basis?

She lifted her binoculars to her eyes again, watching as the smudge began to coagulate into shapes. Shapes of a hundred, perhaps a thousand, Infected shuffled towards them. The only good thing about the Infected is that they tended to move slowly. They had driven ahead of the approaching horde several miles from the motor pool to the supply warehouses without confrontation. Alice and Carlos supervised the loading of the vehicles with as many boxes and pallets of food supplies as could fit into their convoy.

Claire kept watch from atop of the tanker truck, using the height to survey the distance. Another advantage to the Infected was there was no need to seek cover. They didn't use weapons, so hiding had little advantage once they already sensed a human presence.

She lowered the binoculars and sighed, wondering if the unsettling pit in her stomach had to do with the advancing Infected, rather than she and Alice. She startled as she felt a hand on her shoulder, half swinging her fist as she turned.

Alice smiled caught her wrist easily, gently before clenched fist connected with her face. "Sorry. Didn't mean to sneak up on you."

Expelling a relieved breath, Claire lowered her fist. "Christ, Alice…" She exhaled again, this time to slow the hum of adrenalin in her ears. "Are the vehicles loaded?"

"Carlos is supervising the last of the pallets into the deuce."

"Good." Claire pressed her lips together and nodded at the horizon. "We don't have much time."

Alice followed her gaze to the Infected, and nodded. "It's like watching a storm roll in, waiting for it to break upon you and knowing you can't do anything to stop it."

Claire snorted. "That's hopeful."

"Are you alright?" Her voice was much softer, gentler than Claire ever remembered hearing it, and the younger woman felt a blush color her cheeks as she knew intuitively that the tone was reserved for her alone, as intimate as a shared secret.

Unable to resist the pull of Alice, she allowed herself to be encircled into deceptively strong arms, buried her face in Alice's neck. "It's been so long… How do you go back when everything you've known, for six years has been… has been like _this_. I can't even remember what happiness is… or was. I can't remember what safety even feels like. So this… I'm scared, Alice."

"There is no real going back." Alice squeezed her more tightly and pressed her lips to the top of Claire's head. "It won't be the same because we aren't the same. But we can move forward. Together. If you still want to."

Alice jumped a little as Claire pinched her just below her rib cage. "You're teasing me." Claire pulled away, grinning despite her incredulity.

Arching a delicate brow, the older woman shrugged. "Have you ever known me as anything other than serious?"

"You're teasing me when the horde is just a mile away from swarming us?"

Another shrug and Alice turned back to the horizon, and Claire followed suit. She no longer needed binoculars to make out individual shapes, and the gray had become mottled with other dingy colors of dirty yellows, browns and greens. The dread dissipated, replaced by solid determination. She felt Alice's fingers interlace with her own.

It amazed her that Alice held that sort of power over her, the power to quell all her fears and doubts. The power to inspire such fierce dedication, such unwavering confidence. The Infected horde was no longer a threat, but merely an obstacle. Her feelings, her love for Alice was no longer a weakness but boundless strength. Claire allowed herself to draw on that strength, to feel it in their clasped hands. She felt fortified by, after a moment's consideration, what she determined to be hope.

"We can do this, can't we?"

Alice seemed surprised by the question, but turned to her lover and slowly nodded. "We can. We've had lots of chances of turning back, but we haven't yet." She ducked her head, suddenly timid again. "We need to leave. I'll go round everyone up." She turned to leave and walked half of the length of the tanker.

She had swung around to descend the ladder to the ground when Claire called out to her. "Hey!" Alice looked up sharply, halted at the top of the ladder, tilted her head to the side. "I love you, Alice Abernathy."

Alice was silent for several moments and pulled her hood over her head. "I know." She grinned broadly, and without waiting for a reply, slid down the ladder, feet hitting the dusty earth with barely a sound.

Claire grinned as she watched her lover jog up the ramp and into the warehouse, shaking her head in jubilant frustration.

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><p><strong>Well if that ain't just the marshmallow topping on your sundae, I just don't know what is. Enjoy your fluff, ladies and gentlemen.<strong>

**I think I'm going to save it for the end chapter where I go in depth with it, but each chapter (almost every one) is based on an excerpt from a certain work of literature that is dear to me. PM me if you have an idea what it is.**

**This chapter was written in response to all the awesome reviews/alerts I have received lately. So thank you. And feel free to leave feedback; it never hurts to stroke my ego. ;-)**


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